Belonging
by Willowdove
Summary: Denny is an upbeat fisherman who pulls through in tough times. Vaughn is a reclusive cowboy who has more in common with her than either of them would have thought. When the time comes, how will Chelsea choose between them? R
1. Chapter 1

Chelsea sighed and wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. She was tired. Lately it seemed as though that was the only state she was capable of existing in. With 32 turnip crops, a horse and a puppy to take care of, it was difficult to catch a break. And here she was thinking of expanding!

Chelsea sighed again. It was her fault that she was so overworked. Most ranchers knew better than to plant so many crops before investing in an upgraded watering can. But she had been so excited to have finally gotten her farm that she had let her optimism get the better of her. 32 crops had seemed like just the right amount to get her on her feet when she had bought her 4 bags of seeds. Now she knew better.

The watch on Chelsea's wrist beeped to announce the hour: 4:00 PM. She felt so tired she thought she might pass out, but she knew from past experience that if she took a nap this late in the day it would mess up her night's sleep. She looked around half-heartedly for something to do in the meantime. Her eyes came to rest on her fishing pole lying propped up against the wall. Fishing was probably easy enough for her tired body to handle. After tying her bandana a little tighter, she grabbed the pole and ambled out the door.

All of the islands were surrounded by water, but the ocean to the East of Sprout Island was Chelsea's favorite fishing spot. Her feet unconsciously guided her to the beach as her mind focused on the strain in her legs. She really could use a day off.

As soon as her boot sank into sand her knees buckled and she collapsed. The ground felt warm and inviting from soaking in the rays of the sun. Perhaps a little too warm, since she had been outside all day herself- but then again she was just so tired…

A shadow fell over her closed eyes, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The darkness beckoned her deeper into drowsiness. Chelsea very nearly fell asleep right there and then, but a voice pierced her ears.

"Chelsea?" it asked. She growled. She needed her rest, darn it!

"Chelsea?" it asked again, a bit more forcefully. A hand brushed her hair off her forehead, and another shook her shoulder. Chelsea opened her eyes, blinking painfully. "Chelsea, are you okay?" the voice demanded, concerned.

It was Denny, the fisherman. His dark eyes searched hers as he gently pulled her up to sitting position. He left his hand on the small of her back, supporting her. She leaned back into it, feeling oddly comfortable. Probably she could sleep standing up at this point, she was so tired.

"Chelsea? C'mon, answer me!" Denny cried, giving her a small shake. With a start, Chelsea realized her eyes had glazed over and she was lying limp in his arms.

"Uhn," she moaned, shifting herself so Denny could move away. She brought her arm up to test rub her eyes, but a bought of dizziness overcame her that knocked her back over.

Denny was getting a bit frantic, Chelsea noted from her vantage point on the ground. Actually, he looked a bit silly waving his arms around like that- wait. Was that a green elephant walking by just then? And Denny's face- it looked like something from a funhouse mirror. Not to mention the fireworks. They were really pretty. It was like looking out a kaleidoscope…

Chelsea awoke with something sitting on her head. It felt like a bird, but obviously she couldn't be sure since she couldn't see the top of her head. With a leaden arm she reached up to pick up whatever it was and move it so she could go back to sleep. The thing let out a squawk and hopped onto the pillow. She rolled over and came face to face with Popper, Denny's pet parrot.

"Wakie, wakie!" Popper cooed, giving her a light peck on the nose, "Wakie, wakie!"

Chelsea groaned and turned over. "Wakie, wakie!" Popper repeated, hopping onto her head and playfully flinging bits of her hair. "Wakie, wake wake up!"

Chelsea reluctantly pulled herself up, shooing the bird distractedly. She was in a plain wooden building with a small kitchen in the back. Above the sink hung a large painting of a very impressive looking fish. All along the walls fishing poles of various sizes were lined up in neat little stands. In the far corner there were bunches of fishing nets stacked up. This wasn't her ranch. In fact, it looked an awful lot like Denny's house. And that would have to mean… that she was in Denny's bed.

With a yelp she catapulted herself out of the bed. She didn't remember a thing from the night before. Something about elephants? She checked herself- all her clothes were still in place, except for her boots and her bandana. The former were at the door, and the later was on the nightstand. Without pausing to put her boots on she walked outside to find Denny.

It didn't take long to find him; he was sitting a couple paces from the house with a line in the water. He turned when he heard the door open. Catching sight of Chelsea, he stuck his fishing pole in the sand and hurried over to her. "Oh, Chelsea! You're up, thank God! Are you feeling okay? Maybe you should stay in bed," Denny breathed out in a rush. He took hold of her by the elbows and started to steer her back to the house. Then he paused.

"Hey, Chelsea? You think you're okay enough to go back to the ranch?" Denny inquired timidly.

Chelsea frowned. "What… happened last night?" she asked.

Denny grimaced and explained, "Well I was fishing like always here on the beach and all the sudden you come wandering up- staggering like you were drunk- but you didn't smell drunk- you weren't, were you?- and then BOOM just like that you collapsed! And I tried to talk to you but you weren't responding and then you passed out. I thought you died! You were so pale! But you were still breathing so I knew you weren't dead. Anyway I was going to carry you back to the ranch but you had a death grip on my arm, and I heard somewhere you're not supposed to move sick people much. So I put you in my bed, since my house is right here. I hope you don't mind. Oh, and I sent for the doctor in Mineral Town."

Chelsea nodded. It was starting to come back to her now: the exhaustion, the beach, the collapse. She was glad Denny had been there to help her, except… "Denny, you didn't sleep in the bed with me… did you?"

Denny turned about ten different shades of red and he stammered, "N-no! You were unconscious! Jeez, what do you take me for?"

Chelsea blushed furiously. "I didn't think- I was just- Well. Where did you sleep, then?" she asked.

"On the floor," he replied nonchalantly, "It's no big deal. I sleep outside all the time, so I'm used to being on the hard ground."

"You didn't have to do that for me!" Chelsea protested, "And I don't need the doctor. I'd been overworking myself- it was just exhaustion. I wasn't drunk."

"I figured that's what it was. But I still think you should have a doctor look you over. And like I said, the bed thing was no big deal."

"But it is a big deal!" Chelsea objected, "I feel terrible. I kicked you out of your bed." She paused, reflecting. "I suppose I should see the doctor. But I have work to do, I can't stay in bed all day," she affirmed.

"You're not really thinking of working, Chelsea! You passed out yesterday! You need rest," Denny insisted.

"But my crops-" Chelsea began.

"I'll take care of them," Denny assured her, "I'll get Taro to show me what to do and I'll take care of your farm. Just promise me you'll rest today!"

Chelsea sighed. He was right. And she had wanted a day off... "I just feel guilty about laying this all on you, Denny," Chelsea murmured.

"It's no big deal. That's what friends are for, right?" Denny prompted, giving her a nudge. She smiled. She hadn't really thought of Denny and her as friends before. Sure, they knew each other in passing, but they weren't all that close. The extent of their conversation tended to center on the weather and whether or not the fish were biting.

Chelsea inclined her head to rest it on Denny's shoulder. In an unspoken agreement he hoisted her up and she let him carry her up the road.

Denny didn't put Chelsea down until he reached her bed in her house. "You'll be okay by yourself?" he asked, anxiously watching her as she fluffed up her pillow and settled down.

"I'm nearly always by myself, Denny. I'll be fine," she answered, sinking deeper into the bed. "Mmm," she sighed contentedly. Denny was still skeptical.

"Well, if you need anything, just yell, okay? Don't strain yourself getting up," Denny ordered. "Here," he said, striding into the kitchen. He poured a glass of water and brought it back to her nightstand. "Stay hydrated. I'll come check on you every now and then. Don't get up," he repeated.

"Jeez, aren't you bossy," Chelsea replied, a small smile playing about her lips. Denny meant well, and she was lucky to have him waiting on her. Still, it was somewhat irksome to have limited mobility forced on her.

Popper, who had been lazily flying around the pair up until now, landed decisively on Chelsea's head. "Popper watch," he squawked while turning in a circle and ruffling his feathers. He sat squarely on her forehead, gazing intently at Denny.

"Well would you look at that," Denny murmured. Chelsea shot the bird an irritated look through her eyebrows. "I can't look at it, he's on my head. Again!" Chelsea pouted.

"Again?" Denny exclaimed. He looked at Chelsea, as if appraising her anew. "Popper doesn't go near anyone but me. Believe me, I've tried to socialize him, but he won't have it. A shy little guy, Popper is." Denny shook his head and smiled. "I knew you were special," he proclaimed. Chelsea blushed.

"Well," she said after a beat, "Can I be special and not have him on my head? He's heavy." Denny laughed and scooped the bird up, placing him on the nightstand next to the water.

"Alright, Popper, you watch her. I'm counting on you," he instructed the little bird. Chelsea could have sworn she saw it nod. Reasonably satisfied with Chelsea's well being, Denny walked out the door to work on the ranch.

Chelsea slept fitfully for the rest of the day until around 3:00 PM when the doctor showed up. He scolded her for overworking herself but otherwise issued her a clean bill of health. Denny was just as relieved as she was.

"Don't scare me like that again, Chels," he admonished her, pulling her into a hug. She stiffened, unsure of being so close to him. It was silly, since he had carried her home that morning. She forcibly relaxed her muscles and returned the hug.

"Thanks for everything, Denny. You're the best. Really," Chelsea said with sincerity. He was warm from being out in the sun, and his body was toned beneath the loose-fitting shirt he wore. He smelled nice, too… like an ocean breeze.

Realizing she was checking him out, she pushed him away self-consciously. "W-well, you should get going," she stammered, rubbing her left earlobe, "Fish to catch, right?"

"Right," he said reluctantly, looking around. "So… what's up with your ear? Itchy?"

Chelsea snatched her hand down. "Nervous habit," she mumbled.

"Hey, no need to be embarrassed. It's cute," Denny soothed. They both blushed. "Well, yeah, I better go. Take care of yourself," Denny insisted. He waved cheerily over his shoulder as he walked down the path away from her. Chelsea sighed, then paused. What was she sighing about? She wasn't upset or anything. Confused, she turned and headed back into her house, feeling oddly lonely for the first time since she'd moved in.

* * *

_Hey this is the author here. Sorry anyone who's been following this and is confused by my constant re-organization of the chapters. This is the last time, I promise. Anyway I don't know how long I'll be able to work on this project but I had a road trip so I was writing the whole way up in the car. I hope you enjoy this next chapter, written from the passenger side :)_


	2. Chapter 2

A week had passed since Chelsea's fainting episode. She'd been careful to space out her work so that exhaustion wouldn't overwhelm her. It had lengthened her days significantly, but it was well worth it to improve her health. The turnips had grown plump and ripe for harvest. She felt accomplished. In fact, seeing her successful crops lying before her she was tempted to continue growing the same number. It was only an image of Denny's concerned face that stopped her. It was one thing to inconvenience herself; it was another thing to impose on others.

Chelsea left Chen's shop with only 2 bags of seeds. She knew it was for the best. On a whim she stopped in Mirabelle's shop too, hoping to see the new baby chicks. All that yellow fluff was too adorable to resist!

Chelsea walked in to find Mirabelle arguing heatedly with Vaughn. "Whaddaya mean, you're busy? There's something bothering the animals, and I want you to check it out."

Vaughn said nothing; he just stared evenly at her over his tuna salad sandwich. He was sitting at the counter, and it didn't seem as though he was ready to leave it.

"I pay you to look after the animals, Vaughn! They're working themselves up into a frenzy out there! Your lunch can wait. Go take care of them!" Mirabelle demanded, huffing.

Vaughn reluctantly place his sandwich on his plate and stood. "Fine," he relented.

"Hmph," Mirabelle snorted. Chelsea took a tentative step back. Perhaps this wasn't the time…?

"Oh, Chelsea! Wonderful. Could you be a dear and help Vaughn out checking on the animals?" Mirabella asked. Leaning closer, she whispered, "When he's in a mood like this he tends to overlook things."

Vaughn let out an irriatated grunt. "I work alone," he dismissed.

Chelsea looked first at Mirabelle's pleading eyes, then at Vaughn's cold expression, then back at Mirabelle's pleading eyes. Darn it, she couldn't resist that face.

"Alright… But I can't be too long. I still have to plant these," she provisioned, holding up her bags of seeds. Vaughn gave her a cool stare and walked stiffly out the back door. "What crawled up his butt?" Chelsea asked. Mirabelle just shrugged.

"He's a hard worker, but he has a bard time relating to people," she replied, pressing two fingers into her temple. Straightening, she motioned Chelsea towards the door. "Well, go on then, before the cows chew through their tethers," she ushered.

Chelsea followed Vaughn out the back door into the barn, where the animals were indeed going crazy. One cow reared up next to Chelsea, nearly clobbering her in the head. Vaughn was there in an instant, soothing the animal. "Easy, Penny," he murmured, stroking her nose, "Easy."

He caught the cow's gaze and held it. The cow's eyes slowly lost their dilation and less of the whites showed. Her pelt was still shuddering, but the cow seemed content that Vaughn would help her. She trusted him.

Chelsea nodded shakily toward Vaughn and turned to study the ensuing chaos. Something was wrong, no doubt about that. There was an odd smell, and the hay on the ground was splayed at odd angles. It looked almost like… no, it couldn't be…

"Vaughn?" Chelsea squeaked, feeling her throat start to close up. "Vaughn, did you drag a hose through here, by any chance?"

"Huhn?" Vaughn grunted incredulously. He turned to look at her. "Why on Earth would I-" he trailed off, catching sight of something over Chelsea's shoulder. His face drained of color. "Holy… Watch out!" he cried, tackling her to the ground.

Just then a monstrous, green creature slithered off the rafter, depositing itself on Vaughn's back. Chelsea stopped breathing, which was probably for the best. Between the 170 lbs of cowboy and 50 lbs of snake on top of her, her lungs were beyond crushed.

Vaughn was motionless as the snake glided onto his shoulder. Its pointed head slowly danced from side to side while its forked tongue darted in and out of its maw. Vaughn was tense beneath it. His hip was digging into Chelsea's stomach; his breath was hot on her forehead, causing her bangs to rise and fall.

The snake turned to face Vaughn, and it began thoroughly tasting his ear. Vaughn's breath hitched and stilled.

The straw beneath Chelsea was poking into her, and her back itched. She felt a sneeze coming on. Panicked, she bit down on her lip. _Don't sneeze, don't sneeze,_ she chanted to herself. She scrunched up her nose.

The snake decided it wasn't interested in Vaughn and slithered down his outstretched arm onto the ground. It looked around one last time, satisfied with itself, and glided away under the door.

Vaughn and Chelsea stared after it for a beat, and Chelsea sneezed. Vaughn chuckled, collapsing into her. Chelsea giggled. Suddenly they burst into side-splitting laughter, clutching each other for support.

After a couple minutes they calmed down and Vaughn lifted himself so he was hovering over her. They grinned at each other.

"You know, Vaughn, you're not half-bad," Chelsea told him.

His grin widened. "Yeah. You're not so bad yourself," he replied, letting out another small chuckle. They were still beaming idiotically at each other when the door swung open.

"Hey Vaughn I need you to… Oh my," Mirabelle faltered, "Am I interrupting something?"

Vaughn looked at Mirabelle, then at his position over Chelsea, then back at Mirabelle. He quickly extracted himself and brushed off his clothing. "No," he punctuated.

"We were just- We weren't- I mean, there was this snake and- Vaughn pushed me out of the way- It isn't- I mean-" Chelsea rambled, fumbling to pull herself into sitting position.

Vaughn shushed, "She gets it, Chelsea." He extended a hand and pulled Chelsea to her feet. She felt cold now, without Vaughn's body heat.

Mirabelle looked skeptically between the pair and then threw her hands in the air. "Whatever," she dismissed, "Just remember to feed the chickens, Vaughn." She turned around quickly and tugged the door shut behind her.

"I… better get going," Chelsea declared finally, furiously rubbing her ear. "Thanks for saving me from the snake," she added.

Vaughn shook his head slightly. "Nah. It's all good," he evaded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You helped speed this along by figuring it out about the snake, so…" he started, then pressed his lips shut. Expressing gratitude did not come easily to Vaughn. "Anyway, you shouldn't have helped. You didn't have to," he continued.

It was clear the cowboy was happy to have had her help, though he didn't seem to know what to do about it. Chelsea gave him a mysterious smile and a finger wave before then flouncing out the door, thinking to herself, _How do you like that, Mr. I-work-alone?_


	3. Chapter 3

A couple days went by and Chelsea's farm was doing well. Her crops were sprouting and her pets were happy. She was finishing work early lately and considering investing in a chicken coop. No sense in ending her day at noon when she could use the time to expand her farm. With a decisive tug to tighten her bandana, Chelsea set off to Gannon's shop.

As she crossed the bridge to Sprout Island she was startled by what appeared to be a flying hat zooming across her path. An angry cowboy was close behind.

"Come back here, you stupid bird! Give me my hat back!" he roared, thundering past Chelsea. It was a regular occurrence to see Vaughn pissed off, but it was pretty funny to see him bested by a bird. And chasing after his own hat, no less! For the serious, reclusive cowboy, this was almost too jovial an activity.

Denny was following close on Vaughn's heels, looking terrified. "Popper! C'mon, give Vaughn his hat back!" he cried desperately. Chelsea giggled. Struck by sudden inspiration, she reached into her rucksack and pulled out a fish.

"Here, Popper!" she called, waving the fish to-and-fro. Popper turned, flitting directly over Vaughn's head, and fluttered over to Chelsea. "That's it," she exclaimed happily, continuing to wave the fish. The bird darted in to take it, but Chelsea pulled away. "Ah, ah, ah," she tisked, "Drop the hat first."

Popper glanced around reluctantly, but the fish was so dazzlingly bright in the afternoon sunshine. "C'mon, Popper, drop the hat," Chelsea prodded. Popper slowly released his grip on the hat's brim and hopped delicately into Chelsea's palm. After a short examination, the fish disappeared down Popper's gullet. "Good boy!" Chelsea cooed, nuzzling the bird, "Good birdie!" Popper squawked happily.

The force of the boy's stares jolted Chelsea to remember that she had an audience. Without saying a word, Denny took Popper from Chelsea's hand, and Vaughn bent to retrieve his hat. The silence made Chelsea uncomfortable.

"So… Denny, I thought Popper was shy?" she prompted, sidling over to him.

Denny looked a little shell-shocked, and was staring in stupid horror at the muttering cowboy. "I put this down for one second…" Vaughn said, pulling his hat squarely back onto his head.

Chelsea nudged Denny. "Dennyyyyy," she drew out, trying to get his attention. She waved a hand in front of his face. "Denny?"

Shaking himself, Denny emerged from his petrifaction. "I'm so sorry Vaughn! Popper has a thing about hats- that's why I wear the bandana. I was going to warn you when you took the hat off, but Popper was faster. He's too shy to nab it when it's on you but you took it off so… Sorry…" he apologized.

If looks could kill Vaughn would have vaporized Denny right there and then. Chelsea nervously stepped in between the two. "Easy, Vaughn. It wasn't his fault. And you have your hat back now," she soothed, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Vaughn took a deep breath. He searched Chelsea's eyes, as if seeking conformation that everything was okay. She gave him a tentative smile.

"Whatever," he relinquished gruffly, turning his face away. He very deliberately picked up Chelsea's hand, moved it to the side, and dropped it. "I'm going back to work," he announced, and just like that walked off as if nothing had ever happened.

Chelsea stared after him, wondering what it was about the hat that had him so upset. Sure, Vaughn was easy to annoy, but there was something deeper going on with the incident that she couldn't put her finger on. He had seemed more panicked than angry.

"Wow," Denny breathed, breaking Chelsea out of her reverie, "I've never seen anything like that." His brown eyes were focused on Chelsea, wide with hero worship.

"Like what?" Chelsea asked self-consciously.

"Like you and Vaughn. I thought for sure he was going to kill me. Popper too, for that matter. But you- You calmed him down," Denny elaborated. He rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. "That guy scares the crap outta me," he added.

Chelsea laughed. "Oh, he's not so bad, really. A bit cold, but his heart's in the right place," she brushed off. Denny shook his head disbelievingly.

"Well, thanks anyway," he said. Chelsea nodded and started to move around him on her way.

"Wait!" Dry cried, grabbing her wrist. "Why don't you come over? I could use some help making nets. And I haven't seen you since that time you fainted," he offered.

Chelsea blinked, unsure of what to say. Denny faltered.

"Oh, am I asking too much?" he inquired sadly, "Sorry. It's just that I don't get to spend a lot of time with other people, I'm always fishing and-"

"No, no, you're alright, Denny," Chelsea interrupted, "It's just that I was headed to Gannon's shop to order a chicken coop. I could stop by you house after if you want." She rubbed her ear nervously. Denny smiled.

* * *

_Not sure why these are getting progressively shorter. Oh well. I'm sure you could tell the last chapter was an adaptation of Vaughn's heart event, but this chapter is all me. I will continue trying to incorporate actual events, but if I have an idea outside of the game I'll write that too. A little upset that I had to make Denny seem like a wimp in this chapter, but do not worry, that will get better! Nothing like a love rivalry to make someone come out of their shell :)_

_And please, please, PLEASE review. It makes my day._


	4. Chapter 4

Chelsea walked into Denny's house about 20 minutes later to find him busily at work tying fishing nets. "Hey, Chels!" he exclaimed, jumping out of his seat to greet her. He hugged her quickly and then led Chelsea over to the table where he had left his net.

Chelsea picked up the net on the table. The rope was worn and stiff from trailing through salt water for many years. Small bits of seaweed clung to it here and there. It smelled like fish.

"Hey, Denny?" Chelsea pointed out, "I thought you were making new nets."

Denny had already grabbed another net from his pile and was pulling a knot tight with his teeth. "Ah famhn," he mumbled through the rope. Spitting it out, he clarified, "I am. It's just I need to fix the old ones up, too." He gave the rope a small tug, and snipped the end with scissors.

"There, that one's done," Denny declared, putting it aside. He then pulled out some clean ropes from a large sack in the corner. "Here, Chels," he said, handing her the ends of the ropes. "Let me show you how to make these." He twisted two ropes together, and pulled one through the loop. Then he tied them together in a complicated looking knot. "See?" Denny said. He repeated the steps, taking care to do it slowly. "Think you can do it?" Denny asked. Chelsea took the ropes uncertainly, fumbling her way through the knots as best she could. When she started to mess up Denny would just catch her hand and guide her through the step again. "Just tie these together… that's it!" he encouraged. Chelsea let out a frustrated laugh.

"This is really hard!" she complained lightly, attacking the knots with determined fervor.

"Hey, it took me a while to figure it out too," Denny confided, "But you're doing a good job. Just keep going like that. I'm going to work on my own net now." He motioned for her to sit in the chair. "I can sit on the floor and work. You, take a load off your feet," Denny ordered. Chelsea laughed.

"Bossy," she accused, dumping herself into the chair, "Don't worry about me. You just work on fixing your nets."

"Hey," he protested with a grin. Scooping up the next in the pile, he continued, "Ya gotta take care of the things that are important to you." He glanced at her briefly. Chelsea paused. Was there a double meaning in that? Nah, couldn't be. He was just talking about his fishing gear.

About an hour and ten sore fingers later, Chelsea finally set the net down. Denny, on the other hand, had completed two new nets and fixed up about ten in the same amount of time. "You're so good at this!" Chelsea praised with a hint of jealousy. His knots were neater, too.

"Practice, Chels. Practice," he replied, ruffling her hair through her bandana, "That net will still catch fish. Its brilliant for your first try, really."

"Really?" Chelsea repeated, looking hopefully into his eyes. He nodded, smiling. Chelsea grinned back shyly.

They continued to gaze at each other for a long moment. Denny's eyes lowered to Chelsea's lips. Her breath caught. Their faces hovered close together, uncertain.

Popper balked at the sudden charge in the atmosphere. He hopped forcefully onto Denny's head to diffuse it.

"Denny leave! Popper talk Chelsea," the bird demanded, bouncing to emphasize his point. "Now, now- Now, now! Denny leave," he insisted. Chelsea and Denny looked at each other in startled confusion. "Denny leave now!" Popper persisted. He gave Denny a peck on the head for good measure. Denny let out an irritated growl, but obliged, handing the bird off to Chelsea. He was too baffled to argue.

Popper strained his neck to watch the door. When he was sure Denny was gone, he spoke. "Denny mine. Chelsea mine. Denny no Chelsea. Chelsea no Denny," Popper told Chelsea importantly. "Mine," he emphasized.

Chelsea studied the bird. Was he saying that Denny and Chelsea didn't belong to each other? That he, Popper, had claimed the both of them and didn't want to share? "Chelsea not Denny's," she ventured, looking to the bird for verification. He puffed up excitedly.

"Right! Chelsea right! Chelsea mine," he chirped, hopping around her hand, "Denny mine. Mine, mine, mine."

Chelsea shook her head. What an odd little bird. His point was expressed, though, so Chelsea figured it was safe to call Denny back in.

"What the heck was that about?" Denny asked her as he swung the door open.

"Popper has sharing issues," Chelsea explained. The bird gave him a meaningful stare.

"Mine," he told Denny, hopping once on Chelsea's hand. He fluttered up and bounced on Denny's shoulders. "Mine," he claimed, "Mine, mine, mine."

Denny let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't know what's gotten into him lately," he lamented as the bird continued to bounce and chant, "I feel like I have to take him to training classes or something. But they really only offer those for dogs."

"Its cute that he's so attached to you," Chelsea offered, "In an annoying kind of way."

Popper kept bouncing, but now he was on the table, and the chair, and on top of fishing poles. "Mine, mine, mine," he continued to chant. Denny and Chelsea looked on, mesmerized, until he landed with a decisive thunk in front of them. "_Miiiiiine_," he stressed.

Denny and Chelsea burst out laughing. "Alright, alright," Chelsea giggled, "I've got to head home. See you later, Denny." She patted Popper on the head. "You too, Popper."

She had just stepped onto the bridge between Sprout and Verdure Island when she felt a net wrap around her torso. Her arms were pinned to her chest, and she was hauled back a few feet.

"Gotcha!" Denny cheered, pulling her even to his side. He twirled her playfully, and then unwrapped her. "You forgot your net," he scolded lightly, holding it out to her. She took it tentatively.

"But, I thought I was making _you_ a new net?" she said with confusion. He barked a laugh.

"What, you think I'd make you do all that work for my own benefit? It's your net, fair and square," Denny informed her. He pushed her arms up so she was holding the net tight to her body. "Take it," he insisted softly.

Chelsea looked around once for Popper. Not finding him, she gave Denny a light peck on the cheek. "Thanks, Denny," she said warmly. Despite the darkening horizon, Denny's blush was evident.

* * *

_Yes, she gave Denny a kiss. Oh, the drama!_

_Now I bet some of you are wondering, how is she writing so much this fast? What is she doing? (Or not doing?) To answer that question, I am touring Yale, and I am not working on my Gold Award X)_

_Like always, please review! And follow. And mark the story as your favorite, and me as a favorite author- well okay, you don't have to go **that** far. Constructive criticism is welcome, though._


	5. Chapter 5

Gannon showed up early to Chelsea's ranch the next morning. It seemed he had worked through the night to complete her chicken coop. She hurried excitedly to the back of the ranch where she had specified he build.

It was a small building. The yellow thatch roof gave it a cheery feel, and the wooden walls were homey. The inside had a dirt floor. Gannon had generously placed some hay in the coop to get her started. It wasn't the most impressive place, but it was perfect for Chelsea. She could finally raise chickens!

Without stopping to water her plants she rushed down the road to Mirabelle's shop. She burst in like the wind, flushed and eager. Mirabelle jumped.

"Chelsea! Oh! That was quite an entrance," she exhaled, putting a hand to her chest, "You scared me."

Chelsea wriggled impatiently. "I just got a chicken coop, Mirabelle!" she informed her happily.

Mirabelle laughed and waved her to the back door as she moved around the counter. "I suppose you want some chickens, then?" she asked rhetorically. Chelsea squealed and rushed out the door ahead of Mirabelle.

Entering the chicken coop she saw Vaughn crouched on the ground, holding a small yellow chick. The poor thing was limp and listless in his cupped palms. It didn't seem too healthy.

"Still sick?" Mirabelle asked sadly. Vaughn nodded, tenderly placing the chick back in an incubator. Chelsea rushed over to look at it.

It was breathing shallowly with its eyes shut tightly closed. Every now and then it would twitch and turn into another position. Chelsea reached in and lightly stroked its back. The chick cracked an eye open to see the person infringing on its space. Its belligerent attitude changed when it caught sight of Chelsea. Her hair diffused a small pocket of the soft light around her, giving her an angelic glow. Her eyes were kind, and her touch was gentle. Deeming her safe, the chick heaved a sigh, gave itself a small shake, and completely relaxed under her hand.

Vaughn was looking on with interest. "You know, the chick might recover better in a less stressful environment…" he thought aloud. Mirabelle nodded. She was thinking along the same lines.

"Chelsea," Mirabelle addressed, "Do you think you could nurse this chick back to health? It's much quieter over at your ranch. And the chick feels safe with you."

Chelsea gazed at it thoughtfully. It was so soft, and so trusting. "It seems I'm already attached to this little fuzz ball. Of course I'll take it," she answered, digging into her rucksack, "Here, let me get out my wallet-"

"No, no, no, Chelsea," Mirabelle stopped her with a hand held up. "I couldn't make you pay for a sick chick. That wouldn't be fair. And look, I'll even give you some medicine," she offered.

Chelsea carefully eased the chick out of the incubator. "Would you really?" she asked in astonishment, "That's so nice of you!"

Bringing the brim of his hat down over his eyes, Vaughn added, "I'll walk you and the chick home."

Mirabelle's eyes widened, then took on a mischievous tilt. She put her hands on her hips. "As long as you behave yourself, Vaughn," she teased playfully. His face turned bright red.

"It's not like that," he denied, bringing his hat even lower. Chelsea blushed and looked down, bringing the chick tight to her chest.

"We aren't- I mean, we weren't- We won't-" she babbled, shifting from foot to foot. Mirabelle grinned. Vaughn silently grabbed Chelsea's wrist and whirled her out the door.

"Mirabelle thinks that we- that we- I dunno…" Chelsea dwelled. Vaughn shrugged noncommittally. He just kept placing one foot in front of the other. The morning air that had felt pleasant before felt suddenly heavy. It was oddly hot and the humidity became more apparent. Each breath felt more like a swallow. The silence stretched.

"So…" Chelsea tried eventually, "Have you given this chick a name? I don't want to confuse it by calling it something else."

Vaughn tilted his head to consider. He was staring straight ahead, lost in thought. It seemed for a minute as if he wasn't going to answer at all. "I don't usually give my animals names. It gets you attached to them," he said finally, "But I felt like maybe this one needed special protection by a name," He motioned to the chick, stating, "I've been calling her Hisa. It means 'enduring one.'"

Chelsea smiled, relieved. "You know, I think that's the most I've ever heard you speak at once," she declared, giving Vaughn a small nudge. Turning her attention to the small animal in her hand she murmured, "Hisa, huh?" The chick turned and blinked at her. Chelsea's heart felt full. Enduring one, indeed.

Vaughn stopped in Chelsea's farmhouse and looked around, seeming confused by his search.

"What are you doing in here?" Chelsea asked a bit guardedly. She didn't have anything to hide but it felt like a small invasion of privacy all the same.

"I was going to turn the oven on to heat up some stones, since I know you don't have an incubator," he explained, disbelievingly scanning the space once more, "But it seems you don't have an oven."

Chelsea laughed sadly. "Yeah, well… I haven't found the money to expand the house yet, let alone install a kitchen in it," she sighed.

"Well, but then… how do you eat?" Vaughn asked incredulously. Chelsea shrugged.

"I got good at outdoor cooking," she stated blankly. Her relative poverty was a bit embarrassing to talk about, and she shifted uncomfortably. Someday her ranch would be profitable.

"Here, let me show you to the fire pit," Chelsea offered tiredly, walking towards the door. Vaughn gave the house one last sweep, still dubious about the absence of an oven, and followed her bewilderedly out the door.

Vaughn stood at the edge of the fire pit. It was just behind the house, completely invisible from the front of the ranch. His legs felt hot from the leftover heat still radiating from the embers via the last time Chelsea had cooked, which was good. That meant he didn't have to start a new fire. Vaughn rounded up a few roundish stones and threw them in the pit.

"Now what?" Chelsea asked, staring the steady red pulse of the embers surrounding the stones.

Vaughn grunted, folding his legs under him. "Now we wait."

Chelsea looked at the fire, then looked at Vaughn. She sat next to him. "Not that I don't want you here, but don't you have work to do? You always seem so busy," she inquired, "I mean, I don't want you to miss something important on my account." She frowned. It hadn't seemed so dismissive in her head.

Vaughn tipped his head back. "Nah, not today," he brushed off, understanding her true meaning, "I usually head out of town this time of week to find buyers for the animals, so I don't have any official chores."

Chelsea was intrigued. "Why didn't you leave?" she asked. Vaughn's brow creased.

"I don't know, really. Mirabelle insisted I stay here. Something about a storm. It shouldn't hit the islands, but she was worried about me being on a boat in bad weather," Vaughn explained.

Noticing Chelsea's arms resting on her knee, he reached over and curled her hands tighter around the chick, and gently nudged her arms nearer to her body. Their eyes caught. "Keep that chick close to you," he instructed, looking away quickly, "It needs your body heat."

Chelsea nodded and pulled Hisa into her chest. The chick sighed and nuzzled close.

The two of them sat quietly for a while, lost in thought. The embers glowed dully in the fire pit, giving off a faint scent of sulfur. Chelsea listened to the forlorn birdcalls and the squirrels busily rustling in the bushes. There was a small breeze every now and then, catching the ends of her hair. Vaughn was fingering the brim of his hat, staring into the fire pit.

"Hey Vaughn?" she began tentatively, "Does the hat have a story?" He started, putting a firm hand on the back of his head. His lips tightened. Chelsea felt suddenly uneasy.

"Sorry, am I prying? You don't have to tell me about the hat, you know," she backpedalled, "I mean, not if you don't want to."

Vaughn was silent, staring hard into the fire. His jaw worked. "It was my father's," he told her finally. Chelsea nodded. That made sense.

Vaughn didn't offer anything more, and Chelsea didn't ask. After giving her a few brief instructions on chicken care, and setting up the makeshift incubator in the coop, he meandered off. Chelsea closed her eyes against the odd feeling that surged in her when he left. It was almost a tired yearning… but for what she couldn't say.

* * *

_Yay, 5 chapters! *Does a happy dance* So far I've had 62 views, which isn't bad. I want to thank my two followers and MissHammy for her reviews._

_I honestly don't know which guy Chelsea will pick yet. I like them both (clearly). In the game I prefer Denny, but as a three dimesional character that I can develop and write about Vaughn is definitely more fun. Dunno. Guess we'll see._

_Anyway, please review! It inspires me!_


	6. Chapter 6

In a perfect world, Hisa would have immediately gotten better and everyone involved would have been happy. In reality, Hisa's condition experienced relatively no change. She was cool to the touch and her heartbeat was much too rapid.

One day in particular Hisa took a bad turn. Usually she squirmed around in apparent discomfort but this time she was as still as a stone. Chelsea was afraid to leave her, even to water her crops. She considered asking Vaughn for help but she knew Vaughn had already done all he could by way of medicine and environment. Dr. Trent might be able to do something, but he was a day's trip a way and was a people doctor, not a vet.

Distractedly, Chelsea wrapped Hisa in a blanket and set the chick in a small basket on her arm. She watered the crops as quickly as she could manage and bustled into town. She didn't know where she was going, but she needed to go _somewhere._ She needed help.

Her feet came to a stop in front of Denny's house. He did have a bird. Maybe he would know what to do.

Chelsea raised her hand to knock when the door banged open into her knuckles. "Ow!" she yelped in surprise, jumping back. Denny rushed to her, taking her hand.

"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry!" he apologized, "Did I hurt you? I didn't know you were there." He turned her hand over to examine it. His look of concern was so genuine Chelsea couldn't be mad.

"I'm fine Denny," Chelsea assured, though wincing slightly, "It just scared me was all."

They stood together for another beat, Denny still cradling her hand. Chelsea thought about pulling away, but she just couldn't seem to do it.

Hisa let out soft, wounded cheep, jolting the both of them back to the present. "I came to ask you about my hand… I mean, about Hisa! About the chick. I mean, you might not be able to do anything but I know you have Popper so maybe…" Chelsea trailed off, "But you were going somewhere? I mean, that's why you opened the door."

Denny shook his head. "I was, but I wouldn't leave this poor animal to fend for itself. I mean look at it! It's shaking," he lamented. Indeed, Hisa was shivering so hard her whole body was spasming. Denny ushered them in, immediately busying himself in the kitchen.

Chelsea held Hisa close to her body, hoping to warm her. Denny was hurriedly grabbing ingredients and hurling them in a big bowl. At intervals he would mash it all together. Whatever it was looked like gooey tomato paste. Popper, looking cranky to be awoken from his nap, hopped over once to figure out what was going on. Seeing the bowl he gave himself a dissatisfied shake and returned to his perch to sleep.

In just under seven minutes Denny ran the mixture over to Chelsea, sweating. "Here," he panted, "Rub this on her." Chelsea gave it a sideways look. It smelled like fish guts. Denny rolled his eyes. "Do you want her to get better or not?" he demanded. Chelsea took a deep breath and stuck her hand in the bowl.

It was viscous and clung in stubborn lumps to the contours of her open hand. After a second it oozed ever so gradually back toward the bowl. Grimacing, she slowly rubbed it over her palm. "Ick," she emphasized.

Denny just laughed, plunging his own hands into the mixture. He picked up the chick and rubbed little circles into her feathers. "Now you," he insisted, wrapping two fingers around the wrist of her slimy hand. He dragged it over to the chick and messily smeared the goop onto her. Chelsea wrinkled her nose, but she knew it was necessary. Taking another deep breath, she started methodically working the mixture over Hisa, who was for once lying comfortably in Denny's cupped hands.

By the time she finished her hands were tingling and her palms had started to sweat. It clearly would help raise the chick's body temperature. "What the heck is this stuff, anyway?" she asked Denny, shaking her hands over the bowl in a futile effort to rid herself of the gunk. He smiled mischievously.

"What? You don't like it?" he feigned surprise. He put the back of his hand to his forehead in mock despair. "Oh, the travesty! What fair lady would turn down a mixture of fish oil, liver and hot peppers?"

Chelsea made a face. "You mean there's fish liver in it?" she asked disgustedly.

Denny grinned. "Among other things." He gently placed Hisa in her blanket and wrapped her as best he could with slippery hands.

"Well, my work here is done!" he announced, moving Hisa back into her basket. He grabbed the bowl and moved over to the kitchen to clean up. Chelsea didn't hesitate for a second to follow. She practically knocked him over trying to reach the sink. In her hurry she accidently brushed a hand over his shoulder, leaving behind a trail of red goop.

"Urgh, really?" he groaned, his eyes narrowing. "You're gonna pay for that," he continued playfully, sticking a finger in the bowl. Chelsea backed up, her eyes wide, as Denny reached out and authoritatively deposited a large glob on Chelsea's nose. She screeched, wiping it away, and ran with Denny close on her heels. He was joyfully flinging red paste at her. When her entire back was splattered, she finally turned and hurled some back at Denny, giving into laughter.

"You can't catch me!" she teased, shrieking as goop whizzed past her ear. They chased each other for while like that, hurdling over chairs and fishing nets until the entire house was filled with the noxious fish paste. The bowl ran out and they collapsed onto the floor, giggling.

"This is… so gross…" Chelsea huffed. She smiled, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear, and laid back spread-eagled. "Ugh," she punctuated. Denny laughed and punched her arm, which caused them to squelch. "Ew," she giggled in breathless protest. They just lay like that for a minute, catching their breath. Chelsea's arm tingled from where he had punched her, but she told herself it was the fish goo.

When they finally calmed down (and cleaned up) they decided that although Hisa was now sleeping fitfully, she should be monitored through the night to see if anything changed. And that meant that Chelsea would be spending the night at Denny's again. To take turns watching the chick, of course.

* * *

_Sorry I haven't written in a few days- though I guess I can't really be expected to write everyday! I wasn't sure whether to end the chapter here or keep going with the rest of the night, since thus far I've kept each person's events within a single chapter. But this makes for good suspense, doesn't it? :) And anyway, I probably won't finish the next part until tomorrow (or even later). I figured you readers would appreciate an update sooner rather than later._

_I know a lot of readers are Vaughn fans and I've kind of been focusing on Denny. Sorry, I write what comes to me. And I like Denny, darn it! But after I finish this piece with Denny I have some ideas that will delve into the inner realms of Vaughn's mysterious soul... Oooh, what does that mean? You'll have to read to find out!_


	7. Chapter 7

Chelsea's first thought when she awoke was that something smelled really nice. I was a comfortable smell; an ocean breeze mixed with a heady, warm musk. She sighed and snuggled deeper into the covers.

She was feeling very contented and very cozy, which wasn't something that happened often. A rancher's life coupled with a cheap, bottom of the line mattress lended itself to many an uncomfortable night. Today the sheets felt so soft and… heavy?

She painfully blinked one eye open to find a sun-browned back stretched over her. Turning her head she followed the neck up to a face. Denny's hair tickled her as an unruly curl fell off her cheek.

She thought back. Denny had taken the first shift, and she'd been by herself then. Chelsea had then taken her shift with Hisa, who had still been in critical condition at the time. She had practically thrown Denny out of bed so she could go back to sleep. So how had this happened?

She shifted delicately, trying not to wake Denny as she attempted to extract herself. She was almost free when he moaned and pulled her back to him.

Well this was a fine mess. What would her mother say? Chelsea snorted softly. She knew what her mother would say. Chelsea had heard everything and more when she'd left to start a new life as a farmer. It was a dark thought, and she shook her head to free herself of it.

Denny had a strong grip on her; his body blocked one exit and his arm blocked the other. Chelsea blew out a frustrated burst of air, flinging her bangs heavenward. There was not much point trying to fight Denny off. She knew he was stronger. Chelsea had seen him haul in 250 lb fish with his bare hands while she herself struggled to lift 100 lb fertilizer bags without help.

Luckily at that moment Denny began to stir. Chelsea held her breath, though she wasn't sure why. Denny blinked twice, then he looked down at her.

"Chelsea?" he asked in confusion. "Why-? Oh," he said, rolling off of her and onto his feet. Chelsea raised an eyebrow, pulling herself into sitting position.

"Oh?" she prompted, "That's it?" Denny looked away sheepishly.

"I swear I didn't- When I went to bed, I was _all_ the way over _there_." He motioned to the miniscule other side of the twin size bed. Chelsea snorted a laugh.

"Well, then, I suppose it's okay that I woke up with you _on top of me_." She frowned at him, tugging on her ear. "What happened to watching Hisa, hm?"

They both looked over at the chick, who was blissfully unaware of the argument as she slumbered peacefully.

"I was watching her, honest! But after about an hour I could see she was better- I mean, not completely but well enough that I didn't need to watch her. She had stopped shivering and her temperature was normal," he explained, running a hand through his hair. Chelsea looked at Hisa, then back at Denny.

"Well…! Meh…!" she huffed, finding nothing she could legitimately fault him for. She gave him an agitated glare. Denny closed his eyes abashedly, and Chelsea's gaze couldn't help but travel downward over his chest and abs. He was _toned_. She licked her lips, realized she had licked her lips, and felt her cheeks light on fire. She turned her face sharply away.

"W-w-what happened to your shirt?" she stuttered, tugging furiously on her ear. "You were definitely wearing a shirt before."

Denny blushed in response, putting a hand to his chest. "I always sleep without a shirt. I was so tired last night, I didn't think that it might make you uncomfortable. Heck, I should have realized sleeping in the bed would make you uncomfortable. I should've slept on the floor again," he reflected.

Chelsea winced a little at the 'again.' "I still feel bad about that," she admitted. Denny brushed it off.

"Hey, it's okay. I told you, I sleep outside a lot, so I'm no stranger to the hard ground," he said.

"That doesn't mean it was okay for me to kick you out of your bed!" Chelsea denied.

Denny shook his head vehemently. "You didn't force me out of my bed. I _choose_ to let you have it." He held out a hand to Chelsea. She looked at it for a second, sighed, and let him haul her to her feet.

"Alright, alright, enough with the guilt trip. If I make you some pancakes can we call it even?" Chelsea suggested tiredly.

Denny blinked in surprise. "I wasn't guilt tripping you-! You don't owe me anything-" he started to protest.

"Ugh!" Chelsea cut him off, clapping her thumb against her fingers in a silencing gesture. "Enough! Denying it just makes it worse. I'm making pancakes," she affirmed, moving past him into the kitchen. Denny followed, looking a bit like a deer in headlights.

"O-okay," he stammered, shaking his head. Chelsea couldn't read his mind, but she was pretty sure he was thinking _Women!_

Popper finally awoke then, probably from the smell of baking dough. He was unusually chipper, fluttering around and singing short trills. Chelsea threw him a blueberry.

"Chelsea here! Chelsea here!" he warbled happily as he flew in tight little circles. She smiled.

"I brought a friend for you, Popper," she told him brightly. Popper looked around and instantly found Hisa. He alighted on her basket merrily.

"Popper friend! Popper friend!" he chirped at the little chick. She blinked her eyes open.

"Cheep?" she responded, seeming a bit unsure. Popper jumped into the basket, nudging her with his head.

"Popper friend!" he insisted. If he was a cat he probably would have purred.

Hisa studied him for a long moment. "Cheep!" she finally exclaimed. She closed her eyes again and nuzzled against him. Popper puffed up his chest triumphantly.

Chelsea's eyes were misting over. "Oh, that's so… It's so… CUTE!" she cried, putting her hands to her cheeks. Denny smiled.

"The pancakes are burning," he mentioned passively. Chelsea blanched and started flipping them out of the pan.

* * *

_Wow. I can't believe I finished this already. But two chapters in one day seems like a fair thing after neglecting my writing for a while. _

_So Vaughn's up next. And he's not the only one with a hidden past... dun-dun-dah! Keep reading! Keep reviewing! Keep following!_


	8. Chapter 8

It had been a week since Chelsea had stayed over at Denny's house, and she couldn't sleep. She just kept picturing the way their limbs had been tangled together, how his body had rested comfortably against hers… It was enough to make a girl go crazy. She alternated between a state of beaming embarrassment and shy horror along with each toss and turn. The later emotion was not so much directed at Denny, but at herself. She didn't want to be _that_ kind of girl. But she hadn't done anything, and besides, you'd have to be dead not to appreciate the body that guy had. And Denny didn't seem to think much of it. What was a sleepover between friends, right?

Chelsea looked at the clock and sighed. It was only 6 in the morning. She was so tired she could barely move but at the same time she _knew_ she wouldn't sleep. She might as well start her day.

With a groan she rolled herself out of bed and stumbled blearily out the door. Chelsea had already walked over to the windmill driven watering pond when she realized she didn't have her watering can. She didn't even have her rucksack.

A yawn elicited its way up from the center of her chest out the roof of her mouth. Chelsea wobbled and fell to her knees, staring blankly out at the water. She knew she was supposed to be doing something. It was hiding just under the surface of her mind, taunting her. What was it?

The ripples on the pond drifted lazily this way and that. Well, whatever it was couldn't have been that important, or she'd remember, right? Chelsea watched the light dance over the water. Pretty…

With a start Chelsea woke to find the sun beating down on her face. She dragged her arm up to check the time on her watch. Noon. She pulled herself up, small lumps of grass and dirt clinging to the side that had been plastered to the ground. She groaned, running a hand through her hair to separate the debris. She probably looked like a mess.

Giving herself a quick shake, she got up to do her chores. Even though the location wasn't optimal, her nap on the ground had at least cleared her head. She wasn't going to dwell on Denny, she told herself firmly. They were friends, that was all. That was all she wanted, right?

In her determination to distract herself Chelsea managed to finish early. She was sitting absently in the barn, holding Hisa in her lap. The animal had gradually recovering since Denny's odd fish treatment. Chelsea smiled to think of Hisa's progress since the first day she'd seen the chick, nestled in Vaughn's outstretched hands. Perhaps she would endure after all.

The chick was undoubtedly a fixture in her life now, and Chelsea was glad to have her. Unfortunately, though, it was clear that Hisa wouldn't be producing eggs anytime soon. Her sickness had stunted her growth so much, in fact, that she might never lay eggs at all. It was time Chelsea started thinking of investing in another chicken.

Chelsea meandered unhurriedly down the bridge to visit Mirabelle's shop, pondering adequate chicken names. Peridot? Too punctuated. Rebecca? Too long. Ash? Too impersonal.

She paused when she heard angry voices drifting out from Nick's Diner. It sounded an awful lot like Denny… and Vaughn?

"You got guts to say that to my face, buddy!" Denny accused. Vaughn looked taken aback.

"Didn't you just say fisherman don't make any money?" he sputtered. Denny gave him a long look down his nose.

"Fishing's in my blood! I don't care if I make any money. It's my passion!" Denny retorted. When Vaughn didn't respond, Denny heaved a sigh. "Never mind," he said sadly, "It's clear you don't get it at all." He turned and stormed off to the other end of the diner.

"What was that about?" Chelsea asked Vaughn. He shook his head. Chelsea felt her blood pressure rise. "Don't you blow me off like that, Vaughn!" she scolded heatedly. Okay, maybe it wasn't really her business, but he could at least talk to her!

"Chelsea…" he drew out, holding his hands up nervously in front of him as if he expected her to charge. Chelsea glared at him. Vaughn blew out an exasperated sigh. "I wasn't making fun of him," he assured. Chelsea raised an eyebrow.

"Well then why was he so upset?" she demanded. He looked around, as if to find an escape route. Chelsea crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "I'm waiting," she told him expectantly.

"Agh!" Vaughn moaned, throwing his hands wide in a gesture of defeat. "It's just… it's odd that he works so hard at a job that doesn't pay well," he attempted to explain, "I… I don't have a way with words." He shifted uncomfortably and pulled the brim of his hat down over his face.

Chelsea's anger began to soften. "So you were just trying to understand him?" she asked. Vaughn looked up, surprised.

"…Yeah," he affirmed, tipping his hat back. He paused, giving her an appraising look. "I haven't felt that guilty over anything since before my mother died," he shared thoughtfully. Chelsea had the impression it was because of her irritated intervention. Thinking back, she _had _ sounded a bit motherly. She shook her head in disgust. Ew.

Chelsea paused as the bit about his mother sank in. Somehow it wasn't surprising. He always seemed like such a loner. Perhaps it stemmed from a missing childhood? She filed the thought away.

Vaughn was glancing uncomfortably over at Denny. Clearly he felt bad for hurting the fisherman's feelings. Chelsea sighed. "Well, go on and say you're sorry," she instructed him, seeing that he wasn't about to do so without prompting. She gave him a gentle nudge. "Go."

Vaughn had the look of a young cow being herded to slaughter, but he obliged. "H-hey Dennnnyyy?" he addressed, moving to stand beside him. Denny shot him a cross glare. Vaughn started to back away, but Chelsea was standing behind him. She nudged him forward again. He took a steadying breath. "I didn't mean to insult you back there," Vaughn clarified anxiously. He looked back at Chelsea for support. She gave him a smile. He gave her a nod and turned back to continue, "I admire you, actually. You work so hard everyday without expecting much reward. 'Cause you really enjoy it. I didn't quite get that before I talked to you, but I do now."

Denny's face relaxed. "Well I can't stay mad at you, now that you put it like that," he admitted, giving Vaughn a light punch on the shoulder. "Sorry I took you the wrong way," Denny continued. Vaughn smiled and started to back away.

"Hey wait! Why don't we have lunch together. My treat," Denny offered. Vaughn seemed a bit spooked, but also kind of flattered.

"…Alright," he accepted, presumably figuring it was good to socialize. With a small wave to Chelsea, the two men walked away to find a table.

Chelsea smiled after them, happy that she had helped worked things out. It was a bit odd that they had been talking to each other at all, though. Vaughn was too reclusive to approach Denny on his own, and Denny had confessed his fear of the cowboy to her. She determined to ask Denny about it later. For now, she had a purchase to make.

* * *

_Alright, so I didn't get to the big mystery yet. Whoops. Guess I had a lot of other stuff to write too._

_In case you didn't notice, this was Vaughn's blue heart event, which naturally incorporates Denny! *squee* Unfortunately, it was also so straightforward it didn't give me much leeway to be creative. Oh well. More time for that later._

_And swingdancer23, I want to hug you. Thank you so much for you comments (and compliments!). I wanted to address that she had just moved into town in the beginning chapter and had been there about two weeks. So yeah, the story is probably moving along a little fast. At least, it is with Denny. I hope that helps :)_


	9. Chapter 9

Mirabelle wasn't surprised to find Chelsea in her shop. "Need a chicken?" she asked sadly. Chelsea nodded, looking down. This was a bittersweet adoption if there ever was one.

Mirabelle led her to the back and showed her the chickens. Chelsea tried to pick out individual traits in the birds, things that might make them desirable over another chicken. She found nothing. They all had the same white sheen to their feathers and unhurried purpose to their walks.

Chelsea's brow creased. This was unexpected. She would like to ask Vaughn about the animals, but he was busy with Denny. She scanned the room again, flabbergasted. "I think I want…" she tried, raising her arm in anticipation. Still finding nothing, she sighed and dropped it. "I just don't know," she admitted, turning to Mirabelle. The storeowner nodded in sage understanding.

"Come back tomorrow, see if that changes," Mirabelle advised. Chelsea considered that for a minute, then shook her head.

"I'll just sit here and watch for a while, if that's okay?" she decided, folding her legs under her. Mirabelle nodded and quietly left Chelsea alone with her thoughts.

Time passed slowly. The chickens were still foraging for leftover seeds, unphased by Chelsea's half-hearted appraisal. Thoughts were leaking out of her subconscious, unbidden. The angry tone of her mother's voice. The throbbing pain of bruises hidden under her shirt. The broken glass littering the floor.

Chelsea was startled when another body came to rest at her side. It was Vaughn, presumably finished with his meal. She hadn't realized she'd been here that long! But he didn't say anything; he just silently stared out at the chickens with her. Somehow, he understood. He had taken one look at her and somehow known. He really understood, and he was there for her, in his own way.

Chelsea's eyes began to fill. She peeked up at Vaughn from beneath her lashes. His violet eyes were deep and focused. He turned to return her gaze, giving her a small wounded smile. "Well," he muttered gruffly, getting to his feet, "I'll… ah… I'll just be over there." He started to move toward the cow's stables.

"W-wait!" Chelsea cried suddenly, grabbing his pant leg. Vaughn looked down at her, surprised. "Don't go," she begged, "Please." Vaughn put a hand to the back of his hat and sighed, easing himself back down.

"Alright," he relinquished, prying her hand off his leg, "But no crying."

Chelsea sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "Sorry," she apologized. They sat together in silence for a few more minutes. Chelsea took a deep breath. She just needed to let it out. To finally let go.

"It's… my mother," she told Vaughn in a wobbly voice, "She… she was- is- an alcoholic. She called me all sorts of things, hit me… always tried to bring me down. I came here the minute I turned 18- to get away from her. But it's… It's just so hard!" Chelsea's eyes filled up again, and a sob started in her chest. She swallowed it down. "She was so sick, and I paid the bills. I cleaned the house- I did everything! And despite it all, she was the only family I had." She took a breath to continue. "I want her to be alright. I'm just so afraid… without me, she might-" with that Chelsea couldn't hold it in anymore. A torrent of tears ran down her face, and her nose was running like crazy. Vaughn patted her back awkwardly as she sobbed.

"Ah…" he attempted, "…Easy." He unknotted his neckerchief and handed it over to Chelsea. "Here," he offered uncertainly. Chelsea took it with a grateful nod and blew her nose into it. She went to give it back, then realized the ridiculousness of the gesture. She laughed, but since she was still sobbing it caught on her diaphragm and she started to hiccup. "Haha, hic! ughn, ha, hic!" she gasped. She sounded so funny Vaughn couldn't help but start laughing too. This in turn made Chelsea laugh even harder, and soon the two of them were rolling on the floor, holding their sides.

"God, Chelsea," he chortled, "This is the second time." She giggled, then sighed.

"…Yeah…" she said, knocking her head back against the floor. The sadness that was still heady in the air slowly returned to envelope them. They calmed.

"You know…" Vaughn began faintly, "I've never had much of a family either. My father, well… he was an animal trader too, but… one day he got on board a ship and never came back. I've always held onto the hope that he's still out there somewhere… but after a while you just have to accept…" Chelsea turned to face him. He was studying the ceiling with great intensity, as if it held the answers. His eyes were moist- vulnerable. Chelsea laid a hand on his arm.

"And your mother?" she asked softly. Vaughn glanced over and caught her gaze. She smiled tenderly at him. By some silent communication, he determined it safe to continue to speak.

"She was never in the best of health. The house was always swarmed with doctors," he said, "And then when my father disappeared… it was like my mother's spirit went with him. I was only nine, but I had to take an apprenticeship at the animal shipping company just to keep us going. And two years later… she just… she… passed away…" A single, lonely tear trailed slowly down his face. Chelsea reached out and caught it with her thumb. They looked at each other for a moment. Vaughn pulled away.

"Well," he closed, getting up to brush himself off, "Didn't you want a chicken?" A laugh bubbled up out of Chelsea. She pulled herself to her feet to stand next to him.

* * *

_*Sniff* so sad... Writing this chapter made me so melancholy... ack!_

_Well, there you have it, Vaughn fans. I can sense things are about to heat up... and Chelsea's inner turmoil will stretch beyond the boundaries of a tragic past... Ooh..._

_I'm also considering writing a prologue to kind of clear up the beginning of her relationships with everyone and really set up a timeline. Let me know if you think that's a good idea- I guess if it's really necessary. Thanks! :)_


	10. Chapter 10

Chelsea woke up the next day with an odd lightness in her heart. She wanted to see Vaughn. She wanted to give him something. She wanted to see him smile.

She flitted around the room, humming as she threw her clothes on and brushed her teeth. What did she have that would make a good present? Would Vaughn like herbs? It was all she really had, especially since Hisa wasn't laying yet…

Chelsea stepped outside into a rainstorm. Crap. She hadn't even noticed it when she was inside. Usually she was good at determining the light patter on her roof and at least had time to brace herself when she went out. This time, the raindrops were a cold shock.

As she slogged down the path to Verdure Island she realized it was Wednesday. Vaughn wasn't even on the island.

Chelsea deflated, standing idly in the middle of the bridge. Her clothes were beyond damp now; they were soaked through and clung to her skin. Chelsea frowned down at herself. The rain might have eliminated her need to care for crops, but the chickens still needed feeding. She felt she ought to go do that.

Inside the coop two pairs of black eyes blinked up at her through the darkness. The coop didn't have electricity running through it so she relied on the windows to let light in. Today, the rain was keeping the sky dark.

"Hello, Hisa," she cooed to the small chick, picking her up. Hisa cheeped and playfully nudged her head against Chelsea's palm. She laughed and set her gently down. "Hello, Dawn," she continued, hoisting up the new resident. Dawn regarded her uncertainly for a minute, starting to raise her wings. Chelsea petted her back soothingly, and Dawn calmed. Eventually she'd get used to being picked up.

When she'd finished with the chickens it was barely one o'clock. Chelsea figured she'd make herself a sandwich and then figure out what to do.

Ten minutes later, with a full stomach, Chelsea sat back in her chair. She still had no clue how she was going to spend the rest of the day. Her fishing pole was sitting neglected in the corner, gathering dust. Still, it wouldn't be all that smart to go fishing in the rain.

Suddenly it struck her. She could go visit Denny. She hadn't seen him in a while. Squaring her shoulders and scrunching her eyes shut, she walked out under the leaking gutter and into the wet.

She found him in his usual spot, staring out into the open ocean with a line in the water. "Don't you take a day off in weather like this?" she asked him incredulously. He looked up, startled, and relaxed when he saw Chelsea standing behind him.

"Hey Chels!" he greeted joyfully, waving her next to him. She reluctantly dropped herself down onto the sand, pointedly holding an arm above her head.

"Shouldn't you at least set up a beach umbrella to sit under, or something?" Chelsea suggested. Denny shook his head and laughed.

"It'd take a lot more than a storm like this for me to be that desperate," he replied teasingly. Seeing Chelsea's grim smile, he laughed. "But if the fair lady wishes, I can set one up for her," he offered in a lightly teasing tone.

Chelsea cracked a smile, sticking her pinkie up haughtily. "Oh, would you kindly, sir knight? That is, if you can find one within your humble belongings," she replied, playing along.

Denny clutched a hand to his chest, as if wounded. "What, you doubt my ability to procure an umbrella for you? When I have slain dragons and rescued damsels on your behalf?" he accused. Chelsea put on an exaggerated pout.

"The other damsels are still a sore spot for me," she fake-sulked. Denny couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Alright," he chuckled, sticking his fishing pole in the sand, "I'll go find the umbrella for you, then, Your Highness."

Just then, a flash out in the water caught Chelsea's eye. She couldn't make out what it was, but it made a big splash reentering the sea.

"Wait, Denny," she said in a hushed tone, raising a hand to stop him, "I see something out on the water."

He turned and searched the sea. "I don't see anything," he objected. Chelsea shook her head.

"I swear there was something, just a second ago," she insisted. Her intense focus held Denny there, though he seemed reluctant about it. Chelsea could sense it in the way he was tensed. "What's wrong, Denny?" she asked.

"I don't know. Nothing," he answered, "It's just, I want to see what's out on the water, but I don't want you to catch a cold either. I should get you the umbrella." He started to leave.

"No! Wait. Stay and watch with me," Chelsea told him.

"Are you sure?" Denny asked, still looking uncertain, "You might not see it again, you know. It's a big ocean." Chelsea pondered this for a second, then nodded.

"I'm already soaked to the bone. If it'll get me sick, I'm already doomed. Besides, what if I see it again when you're inside? I'd be by myself, and no one would believe me about it," Chelsea affirmed.

Denny laughed and deposited himself back down. "What do you think you're gonna see? A mermaid?" he asked.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Chelsea objected in mock belligerence. She leaned in conspiratorially, glancing around. "But maybe it's a sea serpant," she confided jokingly.

Denny laughed. "Or a selkie," he said.

"Or a kracken," Chelsea offered.

"Or a kelpie," Denny continued.

"A siren."

"A hippocampus."

"The Loch Ness Monster."

"Bigfoot."

"Aliens."

"Aliens?" Denny asked. Chelsea laughed.

"I ran out of sea monsters," she said apologetically, "Besides, you're the one who mentioned Bigfoot!"

"Touché," Denny chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "Touché." Chelsea started, but felt herself lean into it. She couldn't help it. Denny was just so… safe. Warm and comfortable. Like home.

* * *

_10 chapters! That's a new record for me! And I'm also celebrating my 300th view... *roaring applause* I know, I know, settle down now. I have my mother to thank, and my father, and my OCD... lol_

_So. Denny's blue heart event. I know she's supposed to meet Popper in this, but we already know Popper. So I put that bit about talking to her alone in one of the previous chapters and cut the rest down to this. Which, by the way, I had a lot of fun with._

_If you aren't as familiar with mythology as I am, perhaps you should search the following website: Mythical Creatures and Beasts Wiki. (it won't let me post a website link... weird...) You don't really need to, to follow the story, but it does help if you're looking at this list above going 'What the flip is a hippo-what-what?' and feel compelled to satisfy that burning curiosity. There are some other fun things on there too, like kappas, which I decided not to put in here since most people won't be familiar with the Japanese lore. I really didn't want to break up the story by making people too confused :)_


	11. Chapter 11

Home was a new concept for Chelsea. She was used to being afraid of her house: of what lay in wait for her when she opened the door. Since she had moved to the island, however, Chelsea was beginning to forget her old routine as a new one took form. Now the concept of turning in for the night was a welcome relief, not a foreboding predicament. Now she finally knew how it felt to have a safe haven. It was a place where she could go to be away from the world, or just a place where she was always welcome.

Chelsea looked back on her afternoon with Denny a few days before and sighed dreamily. She'd never had that kind of playful banter with a guy before. Heck, she hadn't had that kind of playful banter with really anyone before. The neighborhood she and her mother had stayed in wasn't the kind most people wanted to claim their friends from. And Denny had put an arm around her shoulder! Of course, Chelsea was sure it was an exclusively friendly gesture, but it still made her heart flutter to think of it. Denny was just so sweet! He was always there for her, even before they'd gotten to know each other.

"Chelsea!" a voice called to her from down the road. Chelsea wiped her brow and set her hoe down. "Chelsea!" the voice came again, clearly high-pitched and feminine. A blonde girl in short-shorts and a tight tee tied around her bust came flouncing up the bridge.

"Jenny? No, that's no it..." Chelsea fumbled.

The girl laughed, a high and melodic sound. "Oh, it's Julia. Don't worry about it. That's what I came over here for anyway- for us to get to know each other better!" She gestured abstractly over her shoulder, continuing, "The other girls and I have been talking and well, you've been here almost two seasons now and we hardly know you. So we want you to come to a sleepover with us. What do you say?"

Chelsea was taken aback. She knew that town was tight-knit, so she'd always expected to be the odd one out. It was easier that way, anyway. It was all she knew.

Julia was looking at her expectantly. Her eyes were big and crystal blue, like water shining through a layer of ice. Chelsea found it hard to be wary of them. They were warm.

Chelsea's own eyes stared to tear. "No one's ever wanted to do something like this for me before," she said in a hopeful, wavering voice. "Of course I'll go!"

Julia squealed and swept her around in a bone-crushing hug. "Oh my gosh I love you already! We're going to have so much fun, I know it! We're going to be each other's bridesmaids and have kids at the same time and tell embarrassing stories to each other's grandkids!" she burst out excitedly. Grabbing Chelsea's hand, she half led, half dragged her towards Sabrina's house up the road. Suddenly, this sleepover didn't seem like such a good idea.

"Um, Julia-" Chelsea began, thinking of the chores she had left to do. But Julia wasn't paying attention, she was babbling something about pancakes and frosting snowmen.

Sabrina's mansion was right next to Denny's humble abode, and she saw him standing by the water as she was being hauled inside. '_Help me'_ she mouthed to him. He chuckled and waved as the door swung shut behind her. Geez. And here she had just been thinking that he was reliable...

The other girls had already gathered in Sabrina's library. There was Natalie, a petite yet witty redhead who helped her family run the shipping business. There was Lanna, a retired pop idol who was lounging in the flowing green dress and lacy headband that was her staple fashion statement. And then there was Sabrina herself, a shy and intelligent girl who lived on the island with her wealthy uncle. Not a lot of people, but certainly more than Chelsea was ready to deal with.

"...and we always come to Sabrina's for sleepovers 'cause its so big in here," Julia was still babbling. Chelsea looked around. The stacks of books took up a lot of space, but she could still determine that the relative size of the room was larger than her entire house. Thinking about the fire pit out back that she used as a kitchen, her spirits sank even lower. Poverty. Whoo.

Sabrina blushed behind small, circular spectacles perched delicately on her pert nose. "I know it's kind of a lot. I told Uncle I didn't want a house this big but you know how he is..." She looked down, letting her dark raven hair fall over her face.

Lanna laughed. "What, this house, a lot? You should have seen my mansion. High ceilings, chandeliers, an indoor pool..."

Natalie harrumphed, "You rich people." Sabrina blushed furiously, seeming as though she wanted desperately to disappear. Lanna looked wistful.

"Well, you know what they say. Money doesn't buy happiness," she sighed, propping her head up with an elbow on the table.

"Well that's why you're here, right? 'Cause life as a superstar was too much," Natalie nudged her friend with a small smile. Lanna grinned back at her.

"And 'cause of the fish!" she announced joyfully, thrusting a fist in the air. They all laughed and got swept into a long conversation over the merits of fish scales over musical ones.

Finally, as the darkness began to truly envelope the night, the girls crawled into sleeping bags. Chelsea was ready to close her eyes and drift off, but apparently, the rest of the group had other ideas.

"So," Julia began, giving Chelsea a level stare, "Do you like any boys here?"

Chelsea was startled. "No! I-I mean... Well there's... No!" she sputtered, thankful no one could see the furious blush flooding her cheeks.

Natalie tisked knowingly at her. "Don't den-y it!" she sang teasingly.

"No really... I..." Chelsea began. But she was stuck. Was Denny really only a friend? And Vaughn... she couldn't describe what was going on with that guy if her life depended on it. Chelsea took a deep breath. "I... don't know." The girls huddled closer, operating on that innate instinct girls have when there's good gossip to be shared.

They weren't disappointed. Chelsea's story was long, complex, and dare I say it, romantic. They sighed collectively. On an island as small as the one they lived on, gossip was scarce and hard to come by. Chelsea's story was like a gourmet meal for the starving.

"So who you do like better?" Julia asked finally, "Denny or Vaughn?"

Chelsea blinked. Who did she like better? "I think you got it wrong. I don't like either of them..." she denied, squirming deeper into her sleeping bag. The girls giggled.

"Come on now," Natalie scolded lightly.

Lanna, who had been rolling around mostly quietly up until this point, burst out of her sleeping bag and ran over to Chelsea. "Don't you know how lucky you are?!" she screeched excitedly, "Oh man, that Denny is HOT. And Vaughn- Vaughn's untouchable, but he likes you! He likes you!" Lanna was shaking Chelsea's shoulders. "Don't you know what this means?" she insisted, gazing intently into Chelsea's eyes. Chelsea shrank away from her.

Julia interjected, chattering, "I know, right?! She's gonna have little Vaughn or Denny babies and there's gonna be a wedding and I get to get a DRESS and babies are so cute, don't you think?"

Lanna squealed and bounced over to Julia. "YES! Could you imagine a little version of Vaughn running around with silver hair catching in the wind? Or a baby girl with big brown eyes like Denny?! And they'd call me Aunt Lanna!"

"Yes, yes!" Julia cried, and the two bounced up and down giggling like maniacs. Natalie rolled her eyes affectionately. Sabrina coughed in embarrassment.

Chelsea was sitting in quiet shock. "Two... two of them..." she breathed. Natalie and Sabrina chuckled.

"I think they like you," Natalie said with a smile. Chelsea had no doubt that they did.

* * *

_Sorry I haven't written in a while I was busy with my Gold Award and having a friend over and stuff like that. I did make a cover picture; I don't know if you noticed. I'm sorry you can only see that tiny thumbnail it's actually an 8.5 x 11'' picture with 1,200 dpi but the site won't cooperate with me... :_: Anyway if you can't make it out Denny is standing on top of a cliff reeling in Chelsea by her belt loop and Vaughn is at the bottom trying to pull her back with a lasso. And of course Chelsea's just there in the middle, her expression conveying '...derp...'_

_As for the chapter itself, I got a suggestion for a girls-night-out and couldn't resist the idea of writing Julia and Lanna like this... maybe a tad OOC for Julia but you know what..._ _it was fun, darn it! And funny, too, I think._

_Next chapter cliffhanger: Expect the Unexpected! And hang in there, I promise I'll write it... please read it... *crawls blindly through the dessert of lameness in search of oasis of reviews* Why are there so few reviews? Why?_


	12. Chapter 12

Chelsea had to struggle to make up the work she missed by going to the sleepover, but she didn't really mind. Sure, Lanna and Julia were a bit… much… but essentially they were good people. Chelsea was just glad that she was finally starting to make friends in town. It'd been pretty lonely up on her ranch with only the animals for company. And of course, it was nice to be able to talk over her confusing feelings with people other than Denny and Vaughn… she wouldn't want them to get the wrong idea. Not to mention how awkward and embarrassing a conversation like that would be!

She wandered down the road, lost in thought. So lost, in fact, that she wandered straight into Vaughn, knocking her forehead into his chin as she slammed against his chest.

"Ack!" Vaughn grunted in surprise. Chelsea scrambled backward, lost her balance, and fell hard onto the ground.

"Ooouch," she moaned, rubbing her forehead, "Sorry Vaughn. Didn't see you there."

"S'alright," he shrugged, holding out a hand. Chelsea took it and he hoisted her to her feet.

"What are you doing out here?" Chelsea asked brightly. It was unusual to see Vaughn out and about. He was so dedicated to his animals he hardly ever left the barn.

"I finished work early and went for a walk," he explained. He looked down at his hands, then back to Chelsea. "Hey, you think- Maybe…-"

"Vaughnie!" interrupted a bubbly voice from down the road. Chelsea and Vaughn turned to see miles of blonde hair flouncing toward them. It was Lanna, bouncing up the path.

Vaughn ground his teeth in aggravation. "Don't call me that," he told Lanna.

She seemed taken aback. "B-b-but… Vaughnie's so dreamy! Plain old Vaughn isn't enough for a dreamy person like you!" She put a hand on her hip and turned toward Chelsea with a mischievous grin. "You think Vaughnie is dreamy, don't you Chelsea?"

"W-what?!" Chelsea screeched. Did Lanna mean the name or the person? Either way Chelsea would answer wrong. If she said no, than Vaughn might think that she didn't like him. If she said yes he'd be annoyed that she'd taken Lanna's side. Chelsea tugged anxiously on her ear. "Ah… um, uh… J-just don't call him that!" she burst out, her cheeks flaming red.

Lanna's eyes widened in shock. "But he's so dreamy!" she exclaimed. She clearly expected Chelsea to have backed her up. Chelsea shook her head slightly. Lanna's expression turned angry. "Fine! I can take a hint." She stormed off in the direction of Julia's house. Crap. Chelsea was never going to hear the end of this.

While Chelsea stared after the blonde in apprehension, Vaughn breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Chelsea. I'm not really a people person… I can't go yelling at her. But I hate it when she calls me that!"

Chelsea laughed nervously. "Haha yeah…" Vaughn followed her gaze and his lips curved downward.

"Oh, did I make trouble for you?" Vaughn backtracked, "I'm sorry, you didn't have to-"

"It's nothing Vaughn," Chelsea waved him off, "Really." He didn't seem to believe her, but he didn't say anything else. They stood together awkwardly.

"Hey… um… weren't you gonna ask me something when Lanna showed up?" Chelsea recollected. Vaughn froze, then slowly brought his hat down over his face until his face was completely hidden.

"Um… well…" he began, blushing furiously, "It… it doesn't matter."

Chelsea cocked her head sideways in confusion. "Oh? Well then, I'll ah… I'll be going…" She began to brush past him when he grabbed her wrist. Chelsea's heart stopped.

"…Wait," he told her, squeezing tightly. Chelsea turned. "Walk with me," he invited her cautiously. He looked up at her from under the brim of his hat. There was something in his eyes… she just couldn't say no…

"Alright," Chelsea accepted with a smile.

They shuffled along with Chelsea trailing slightly behind. After a beat Vaughn realized he was still holding onto Chelsea's hand and he dropped it so fast she could have sworn she burned him. Chelsea snatched her hand back, blushing. She was thankful for the slight afternoon breeze that cooled her cheeks. The summer was quickly transforming into autumn. The trees were tinged with gold and the heat had finally dipped to 70 F. It was a beautiful day for a walk. She just wished that atmosphere were lighter.

"Hey…" she asked uncertainly, "Where are we going?"

Vaughn shrugged, waving abstractly. "Where the day takes us." Chelsea perked up. Who knew Vaughn could be poetic?

They passed by Mirabelle's and Chen's store, and meandered down the path. Without really meaning to, they had ended up at Kirk's boat.

"You two want to go somewhere?" the sailor asked brightly from the bow of his small, motored craft.

Chelsea turned to Vaughn. "I dunno do we?" she inquired. In way of answer, Vaughn stepped carefully into the boat and held out a hand to help her do the same.

"Where are you kids off to?" Kirk asked. Chelsea smirked and nudged Vaughn.

"Where the day takes us!" she announced happily. Vaughn's lips raised into a ghost of a smile. Kirk raised an eyebrow. "Surprise us!" Chelsea finished. Kirk nodded kindly and backed the boat out of the harbor.

"Young love…" he sighed. Vaughn and Chelsea blanched.

"We're not- I don't- It's not like that!" they yelled in unison. Then they looked at each other and retreated far back into their respective seats.

"What do mean 'young love' anyway?!" Chelsea huffed at Kirk, "You can't be more than 30!" Vaughn pulled his hat down over his face. Kirk just chuckled.

Luckily for all parties involved the boat ride was short. Chelsea and Vaughn scrambled off the boat and practically ran up the dock. Kirk waved jovially as they made their escape, still murmuring to himself, "Young love…"

Only when they were out of sight of the dock did the pair finally look around them. They were in an open field, the grass bowing gracefully in the wind. Amidst the emptiness there stood an ancient stone carving at the head of the land. It was worn and rugged looking, yet somehow still majestic. They were on Meadow Island.

Vaughn plopped himself down under one of the trees that made up the border, and motioned for Chelsea to do the same. She attempted to follow, but slipped on a damp patch of grass and fell on top of Vaughn instead.

"Yikes, sorry!" Chelsea exclaimed. Once she managed to relocate all her limbs, she pulled herself up. In the process her lips brushed over his.

"Ahhh!" she shrieked, throwing herself backward, "Sorry! Ah, I'm such a klutz today! Sorry!"

Chelsea was so red she thought she might explode. "Yeah… well, it's alright," Vaughn murmured abashedly, avoiding her gaze. Chelsea bit her lower lip and looked away.

Suddenly Vaughn's gaze was piercing. Chelsea still wasn't looking at him but she felt the force of his intense study. What the heck? She said she was sorry, and he said it was alright… Well, it clearly wasn't alright, but he hadn't seemed pissed off so what-?

Vaughn took a deep breath, grabbed Chelsea's shoulders and caught her lips in one swift move. Her heart stopped briefly, but when it resumed beating it was going so fast she thought she might die anyway. His mouth had been rough and demanding initially, probably because Vaughn had been so quick, but it softened as he slowly pulled away. When he looked at her, he seemed just as surprised as she felt.

"Haha… I don't know why I did that…" Vaughn laughed nervously. They were both scarlet. "Um… why don't we go home now?" he suggested, tipping his hat back.

Chelsea was speechless, so she just nodded. Without another word they rode the boat back and went off their separate ways, both wondering exactly what the kiss had been about.

* * *

_Yay Chelsea's first kiss! You may thank my friend for pushing me to move the romance along, though she might be upset that it wasn't Denny... Ah well can't please everyone._

_Sorry I haven't updated in a while I've been busy trying to organize a fundraiser for my Gold Award for breast cancer patients... yeah, it's complicated. Anyway, it's pretty important so even I, the master of procrastination, wasn't able to avoid doing it for long. Plus it's for a good cause._

_And thank you so much for your reviews and following and favoriting (is that even a word?) *touched* *manga shiny eyes* I love you people..._

_Next chapter: Denny finds out about the kiss and all hell breaks loose! (I think. Nothing's set in stone till I write it, of course!) Don't go anywhere folks, this is just the commercial break! (Come on, laugh at my lame joke. You know you want to)_


	13. Chapter 13

Vaughn left town early the next morning as always. It was like nothing even happened. Chelsea was slightly perturbed that he hadn't bothered to say goodbye but then again he never had before… And the kiss really hadn't been a big deal anyway. Vaughn didn't seem to think much of it with his 'Haha I don't know why I did that' attitude, so why should Chelsea think anything of it?

Chelsea sighed heavily and whacked the soil halfheartedly with her hoe. It came out all wrong; one side was much deeper than the other. It was more of a gauge than a till. She angrily kicked the soil back in place so she could try again. _Geez that Vaughn!_ she huffed internally as she forcefully swung the hoe down once more. _What was he thinking? That was my first kiss…_

Chelsea hit the ground so hard the blow reverberated up her arms and she had to sit down. She blew her bangs out of her face. Why was she so angry? It didn't make any sense.

Just then Denny flew up the path, panting hard with exertion. "Chels!" he wheezed, bending down to catch his breath, "It's Popper!"

Chelsea was immediately on her feet. "What happened? Is he okay?" she asked as she rushed to Denny's side.

Denny held up a finger as he gulped in air. "He's… missing… Can't find 'em… Never goes far… usually," he puffed while his eyes hurriedly scanned the area, "Haven't seen 'em… for at least… five hours." The little black bird was nowhere in sight.

Chelsea jumped into motion. "I'll go get all the girls to help look. We'll split up and scan the different islands." She stuffed her hoe back into her rucksack. She'd finish up with her chores later.

Lanna didn't open the door for her so Chelsea had to yell through it that she needed help finding the bird. Lanna didn't respond initially, but Chelsea was relieved to find her searching the branches of trees a few minutes later. A friend in need was a friend in need, after all.

Soon the entirety of Sunshine Islands was bustling with bodies in search mode. Chelsea tried all the borders where the sea met land, since Popper did love his fish. She looked at all the spots she knew wild berries were growing. The branches of both bushes and trees were empty. Where on Earth could he be?

An image of Popper nuzzling little Hisa surfaced in her mind. Could he really have…?

Chelsea sprinted up the bridge and through her crop fields to reach her chicken coop. She was almost reluctant to look in it; the notion that Popper was hiding in there was just somehow ridiculous. She shrugged her shoulders and pushed the door inward. No harm trying.

Even though she had suspected Popper to be in there, she was still surprised to find the small parrot sleeping fitfully next to her fluffy yellow chick. Dawn was seemingly oblivious of the intruder, meandering around pecking at seed on the ground. Hisa must have sensed the presence of her owner because she yawned and blinked awake. "Cheep?" she asked tiredly.

Grinning from ear to ear, Chelsea burst out of the chicken coop. "Denny!" she called excitedly, "Denny you have to come see this!"

She found him hurrying out from under a shrub he was searching. "You find him?!" he asked anxiously.

Chelsea nodded quickly and grabbed his wrist. "Come on, come look!" she cried as she pulled him up the path. He didn't need much encouragement; he was soon running at full tilt and ended up dragging Chelsea along behind him.

They reached the chicken coop and went quiet. Chelsea reached out and gently pushed the door open. Inside the two birds were still curled up asleep, blissfully unaware of the panic they'd caused.

"Popper!" he exclaimed softly. He went to pick up his bird but took his hand back. Popper and Hisa were too adorable to be bothered.

He turned to Chelsea instead. "God I love you," he breathed, twirling her around in a hug and then pulling her in for a kiss. It wasn't long but it felt as though it lasted forever. Denny was sweet and sincere. The world was spinning. He pulled away and Chelsea stumbled a little. She had forgotten where her feet were.

"Um…!" he hesitated, pushing Chelsea out to an arm's length. "Well, I uh… Thanks for finding Popper," he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "He'll come back when he wakes up I guess." Denny practically fell over himself to leave. Chelsea stared after him, wide-eyed. She brought three fingers to her lips.

"Denny," she whispered softly. A breeze ruffled her hair through the open door. He had said he loved her. He had said he loved her! And… she found that she didn't mind one bit.

* * *

_So all hell didn't break loose just yet. But this is pretty good too :) Sorry I haven't been able to update in a while. I'm in Boston with limited internet access. And now I'm off to the beach! Ciao! Remember to review!_


	14. Chapter 14

Of course Chelsea couldn't let her imagination get away with her. Yes, Denny had kissed her and told her he loved her, but he was just really excited to find Popper, right? Anyone would be prone to spontaneous outbursts of affection in the same situation. It had to be friendly love, anyway. Yeah. That was it. Except… something in her didn't want it to be friendly love.

She had felt something shift when Denny kissed her. It wasn't a new feeling, more like an unearthed longing that had always been there. It was calm but powerful, deep and clear, vast and eternal; it was an ocean, much like the one Denny spent all his time in. And to Chelsea's surprise she wanted desperately to dive in.

Even so, there was something holding Chelsea back from accepting Denny. Or rather, there was some_one _holding her back- Vaughn. However nonchalant Vaughn may have been when he kissed her, Chelsea had felt a rush so strong she had thought her heart would burst. If Denny was the ocean, then Vaughn was wildfire: intense, immediate, elusive, potentially scalding, and heart-achingly mesmerizing.

Chelsea thunked her forehead into the table, berating herself. She didn't have a right to be thinking of either Denny or Vaughn that way. They both had kissed her but it hadn't meant anything. At least, she was pretty sure it hadn't…

"Chelfshea?" Lanna asked in concern through a mouthful of cake. She was sitting peaceably across the table at Nick's Diner. It had taken a lot of begging, pleading, flattery and some bribery (the cake) to get Lanna to forgive Chelsea the terrible transgression of disagreeing with her. Chelsea was beginning to think the pop-star's friendship wasn't worth the trouble.

"You're giving me a migraine," Chelsea moaned into the wood grain. Lanna laughed, pausing in her food-shoveling just long enough to give Chelsea a knowing glance.

Lanna argued through another mouthful, "Nuh-uh. Thaf was a boy delemfa head thumk." She swallowed. "Spill."

Chelsea pulled her head up to glance around. The coast was clear. Chelsea leaned across the table, only a tad reluctant. Guys go out and kill things; girls talk them to death instead. "Alright…" she consented in a hushed tone, "Just don't tell anyone, okay?"

Somewhere between the beginning and end of her story Chelsea's audience grew from one former idol to the entire female population of the islands. Honestly, they didn't have cell service. How on Earth did they all know? Was she unwittingly sending out homing beacon for gossip?

The door opened for the umpteenth time just as Chelsea finished, "…and then Denny spun me around and kissed me!" A silver head wavered frozen in the doorway, behind the squealing girls. His face hardened, and he brought a fist to the wood. Without so much as a word, he spun around. The door slammed shut behind him.

"Vaughn!" Chelsea gasped, knocking her chair over as she jumped to her feet. The girls stumbled over themselves to let her through. She yanked the door open and sprinted to catch up to him. "Vaughn, wait!" she called frantically. He slowed to a stop, but didn't turn around. "Wait," she murmured, pulling up to his side. He wasn't looking at her, but she knew he was listening.

"I…" Chelsea started. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to feel.

"You don't like me," he stated stiffly. Chelsea felt a lump rise in her throat. She shook her head vehemently.

"No, Vaughn! I like you! I lo... I mean, I might…" Chelsea tried, but she couldn't finish. She looked down at her shoes in misery, tugging forlornly on her ear.

Vaughn looked her over intently. "You… might…?" he asked hopefully. Chelsea pressed her lips together. It was a good thing she didn't have laser vision. She'd have a hole in her shoe.

"But! What about you!" Chelsea burst out angrily, her face suddenly snapping up. Vaughn's eyes widened and he took a step back. "You acted like, I don't know, like you didn't care! You were all 'Haha, why'd I do that?'!" she accused.

Vaughn's eyes narrowed. "So what, you went off and kissed Denny?" he huffed, crossing his arms.

"Yes!" Chelsea yelled, waving her arms. "No wait, no!" she interjected, "_Denny_ kissed _me_."

"Oh, so it's all okay then," Vaughn snorted sarcastically.

Chelsea shot him a death glare. "No you don't understand!" she cried. Vaughn stared down furiously at her. "You know what? Fine!" she exclaimed, flabbergasted.

"Fine!" Vaughn shot back.

"Oh yeah? Well, I'm more fine than you!" Chelsea contested spitefully.

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"FINE!"

"FIN-umph." Chelsea was cut off by Vaughn's mouth over hers. Their faces had gradually come closer and closer during their argument and now… suddenly Chelsea couldn't remember what she was angry about.

Heat flushed through her veins. He wasn't close enough.

Just as she was going to wrap an arm around Vaughn's neck a voice broke through the haze. "Chel-sea?" it cracked. Her eyes flew wide open and she pushed Vaughn away.

* * *

_I bet you all know who the mysterious voice is... kerokerokero ;3_

_I apologize for not updating in what... a week? Three days? *no sense of time* Despite the obvious reason that I was playing in the ocean, I choose to instead blame my procrastination on the fact that the last chapter was Chapter 13. It's an unlucky number omigosh!_

_And I had writers block. That was a big contributor._


	15. Chapter 15

"Denny!" Chelsea gasped, pressing a hand hard against her mouth in both shock and self-revulsion. She shook her head and backed away, as if her denial could make the hurt in Denny's eyes dissipate.

Vaughn's hand circled her wrist possessively, anchoring her from further retreat. He was staring down the fisherman. Denny radiated loss and pain from every pore of his body, but his look of defeat lasted only a second. His eyes hardened and he met the cowboy's gaze squarely.

"Don't think this means I'm giving up on her," Denny warned, leaning in threateningly.

Vaughn snorted, only appearing non-plussed. Chelsea could feel his pulse speed up through the hand on her wrist. His grip tightened. "I think it's clear she's already chosen," he stated coldly.

Chelsea's eyes widened. Had she chosen? She'd run after Vaughn earlier and even let him kiss her, but she had never sworn fidelity. Chelsea had feelings for Denny too. Strong feelings. And she couldn't stand to see him like this.

"No, Denny I-" Chelsea denied, reaching out her free hand toward him. She fell silent, and looked down in shame. She was being too selfish- she wanted both of them. But what claim could she put on their hearts when she couldn't let them claim her own? What right did she have to ask Denny to forgive her? Or Vaughn, for that matter?

Vaughn stood stiffly, exuding discomfort and anger. Denny's jaw worked, his eyes stormy. They stared each other down. Chelsea squirmed.

"Let go of her," Denny growled low in his throat.

Vaughn pulled her into his chest. "No," he refused.

"You son of a-" Denny snarled through gritted teeth, moving in to disengage Chelsea.

Vaughn rolled Chelsea to his left and slightly behind him, planting himself in a defensive position. He was ready for a fight.

Denny balled up his fists, seething. "You spawn of diseased octopi!" he cried.

"You interfering beach trash!" Vaughn shot back.

"Condescending shark!" Denny raged.

"Damn hobo!" Vaughn snarled.

"Cow-loving land-lubber!" Denny retaliated.

"Stop it you two!" Chelsea shouted, breaking loose of Vaughn's grip. She stood apart from them, yelling, "You're both idiots!"

They looked up at her, surprised and somewhat chagrined. Chelsea's breath caught. They didn't blame her. She could see it; it made her chest constrict. She didn't deserve their trust. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

She backed away slowly, then all the sudden was flying into the wind, her feet pounding beneath her. She could hear the faint calling of her name behind her, but she ignored the plea. She wanted nothing more than to run, forever, until she was past the horizon, above the moon and melting inside the sun. She couldn't face this. She needed to get away; her blood screamed it to her as she churned up earth below her. Her tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but escape.

Of course the islands are small so it wasn't long before she reached the edge; she skidded to a halt just shy of the water on the East side of Sprout Island. Denny's place. Her heart let out a mangled screech and fought her way out into the ocean. She had to move forward. She had to.

The waves were massive that day. Chelsea struggled to walk through them at first, but was finally forced to dive in headlong. She managed to get some ways out through sheer force of will. But inevitably she found herself immobile in the midst of the tempestuous sea.

Her arms dug into the water like claws, desperate for purchase. Her legs churned feverishly behind her in futile effort to propel her. Each breath was a battle as she was dragged under the surface. The ocean roiled around her. She was hurled around in fisted circles and tugged to-and-fro by forceful currents. Her entire body felt battered. The salt water was in her eyes and she didn't know which way was up anymore.

Suddenly Chelsea deflated, silent tears mixing with the sea. She was beaten. She could go no further. She could not go back.

The waves continued to toss her around but it wasn't all that frightening anymore. Chelsea had resigned herself. The last few precious bubbles of air escaped her parted lips and she sank…

Chelsea awoke drowsily. Funny. She hadn't expected heaven to be so cold.

The wind whipped against her soaked clothing, sending shivers down her spine. Maybe she was in Hell. Though that was supposed to be firey, not damp and frigid.

Her eyes peeled open to reveal one silver and one dark brown head hovering directly above her, and the rest of the islands' population floating somewhere in her peripherals.

"What the?! Ngh-" she groaned, breaking out into a hacking cough. Her throat felt like it was made of sandpaper.

"She's alive!" Denny shouted in triumphant relief. Her coughing continued, progressing from body-wracking to lung-ejecting. Denny quickly scrounged up a bottle of water. She downed it instantly. He handed her a second one. She drank that one a little slower, but finished it all the same.

"What happened?" Chelsea rasped. The men exchanged a look.

Denny exploded. "What happened?!" he cried, "You scared the crap out of us! What the hell possessed you to go out into waves like that?!"

Vaughn nodded, his eyes flashing. "Don't do that again," he ordered.

Chelsea winced. She hadn't meant to worry them so much. Not to mention she'd nearly died. "Sorry," she whispered. They were silent.

"I um… I didn't need CPR, did I?" Chelsea asked after a long while, squeezing her eyes shut.

"You did," Denny murmured seriously. He locked eyes with her. He didn't say so, but she knew. He had been the one do it.

"I'm such a screw up," Chelsea whimpered, "Always needing someone to save me…" She sighed tightly, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes. "My mother was right…" she choked. Sobs leaked out from her throat. She bit down on a fist, wiping at her eyes, but nothing could stop the keening wail reverberating from her very soul.

Nothing could stop it except two very different people taking her hands. They gazed at her with such love that Chelsea's world turned to glittering crystal through her tears. A burden dropped from her shoulders. It wouldn't be okay forever, this division of her heart. But for now… she couldn't imagine being more content.

* * *

_Is this chapter too heavy for the story? Because even though there was that previous chapter about the alcoholic mother, I feel like this chapter got really deeply and somewhat darkly emotional. Most of the rest of the story has been humor focused._

_Shout out to Alexa-nii-chan for her amazing invention of the insult 'You spawn of a herpes-infested octopus!' It's unfortunate I had to alter it slightly to keep Denny in character- it's hysterical (clearly). Anyway, Denny's insults, you may have noticed, are rather fish-based... I hope that makes them funny. Though I try, I'm no comedy expert. Please at least pretend to laugh. For my sake._

_I know I always ask for reviews but this chapter in particular boggles me. I have no idea how people will react to it, thus I need you to react to it. I don't want to be writing crap and not knowing that it's crap. That would stink, like, actual crap._

_Oh, I almost forgot! Belonging has broken 1,000 views! It's close to 1,300 now, which is honestly more viewership than I ever hoped for. ¡Gracias, personas! Arigato! Dziękuję! And various other forms of thanks! :)_


	16. Chapter 16

Vaughn could remember the first time he saw Chelsea.

It was an unusually sunny day. The sky had been impossibly vibrant, so much so that he had to squint his eyes against the glare. He was standing next to the large harbor on the east end of Sprout Island, stupidly gazing at the dazzling waves. He closed his eyes to rest them and purple spots sprouted in their wake behind his eyelids.

When he opened his eyes again a ship had pulled into the harbor. Strange. The commercial boat didn't come to pick him up until Wednesday morning. It was only Monday.

Then _she_ stepped off the ship and his thoughts crashed to a halt.

She was beautiful. Her shoulder length hair fell in subtle curve down her back and a few bangs peeked out from beneath a bright red bandana. Her eyes were the purest, deepest blue he had ever seen. And her figure! Vaughn was dumbstruck.

She looked around anxiously, a suitcase loose in her hand. Vaughn was hit by an uncharacteristic desire to help her. But then she spun around, as if she heard something. After a frantic pause the vulnerable look folded away into her face and she greeted the captain with a determined smile. If Vaughn didn't know better he would have thought he'd imagined her lost appearance. His lip twitched upward ever so slightly. Maybe… maybe she was like him. Hiding.

From then on he'd been intrigued by the rancher girl. He'd been careful to conceal his study of her, even from himself. He was only curious. She was new, that was all.

He probably would have succeeded to deny his feelings indefinitely, but the day Chelsea discovered the snake in the barn changed everything.

Only seconds into the job he was horrified to find hooves slicing the air near Chelsea's ear. He should have been annoyed that he had to protect the girl in addition to finding the issue in the barn. But deep down, he was shaking. That had been much, much too close.

And then he turned to find a monstrous snake bearing down on her. Acting on total instinct, he knocked Chelsea over, out of the way. The snake had landed on him instead.

All the air rushed out of him at impact. He couldn't imagine how poor Chelsea must have felt, with both of them on top of her. The concern was fleeting, though, since the snake's movements soon preoccupied him. He still had nightmares about that tongue flicking lazily over his ear.

It wasn't his powerful protective instincts that jolted Vaughn into awareness of his feelings, however. It was instead the shockwave of emotion that tore through him when he realized they were safe. When he realized _she_ was safe.

And her laugh! God, he'd never heard anything more heavenly. Furthermore, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to laugh so freely with anyone. He had started to forget what it felt like.

Then when Mirabelle came into the barn and… misread the situation, he'd felt a rush of heat so strong it had taken his breath away. How had he failed to notice Chelsea's body beneath him? Her lips so full, inviting, and forming a perfect, surprised 'O'?

He was an idiot. A lucky idiot, but an idiot all the same.

That wasn't the end of his idiocy, either. When he was around her he felt compelled to tell her things. He'd shared his past with her, which he had never done for anyone else before. It started with his father's hat, and eventually he'd even disclosed his mother's sickness. He'd cried! It was only one tear, but it was still humiliating. Vaughn hated to show emotion. If no one knew him, they couldn't hurt him. He was tired of being hurt.

It was easy to see how Chelsea could charm someone into bearing his soul. She was bright, optimistic, and adorably naive. But the thing that had broken down the final standing wall to Vaughn's heart was her parallel pain. She handled it differently, but she too had been broken. It was her understanding that melted Vaughn's inhibitions away. It was her compassion that undid him. It was his aching need to be whole that attracted him to this broken girl, for together two broken pieces can complete each other.

Like the idiot that he was, he let himself fall in love with her.

Then she kissed Denny. She loved Denny. Vaughn could see it in her eyes. It was the haunting phantom of guilt that hovered behind her pupil when she talked to Vaughn. It was the resistance to his second kiss. It was the way she stared after Denny like her heart was breaking. It was the desperate leap into the turbulent sea.

He wanted to close himself off from her. His anger was putrid and his jealousy was blinding. The deepest cut of all, however, was the betrayal.

How he wanted to eject her from his heart! How he wanted to toss her image out as jetsam and return to the easy, if lonely, mistrustful existence he had lived before! It was just… he couldn't. He couldn't loose her. Not another one.

So his heart clung to her in a vise. It was as if she were the only life vest in a vast ocean, or his last gulp of air in the vacuum of space. Whether he liked it or not, he needed Chelsea.

He loved her.

* * *

_And I love you, Vaughnie! *squee*_

_Ahem, anyway... I was told that I had a missing plot element so I set out to fix it. I present to you: The Reasons Why They Love Chelsea, Part 1!_

_Truth is, I was tempted to write about half of the previous chapters in the guys' perspectives. I didn't because I felt it would mess up the flow of the overall piece. I'd be jumping POV **all the time**. But now I'm thinking that if I had just gone ahead and done it, than maybe people would understand the guys a little better. I guess that's why this is fan fiction and not actual fiction X)_

_Over 1,500 views and new follows, reviews, and favorites! Keep them coming people! It gives me the energy to write._


	17. Chapter 17

Denny would never forget his first glimpse of Chelsea.

She descended from the port side of the ship like a vision, chestnut hair buffeted by a soft breeze that seemed to have been sent down from heaven just for her. She was the most stunning creature he had ever seen. Her sapphire eyes were endless, crystalline, and deep as the sea. Her excitement transferred to her movement, causing her to glide purposefully. Her mouth was perfectly sculpted into a smile.

It was the smile that did him in.

Denny was never one to hide his feelings. He was a simple guy. He liked the sun and the sand, the fish and the sea. Good food. Good friends. And as sure as it was written on his sleeve, he knew he liked this new girl too. A lot.

Maybe it was stupid. He didn't even know her name. How could he possibly like her? Unfortunately, logic didn't have an effect on his heart rate. He was having palpitations just watching her.

When she came out to the beach two days later to fish he nearly fell over. This was something his brain could latch onto, a legitimate reason to be interested in her. He liked fishing, she liked fishing. Man, he was so done for.

They barely talked the first few weeks, excepting some polite conversation to drive off the awkwardness. Even so, each sentence or expression she granted him was endearing. She was always so positive. When the fish weren't biting she'd welcome it as a challenge. If clouds rolled in she'd insist on staying out until the very last minute. He couldn't help but admire her. It was the attitude that he himself strived to have.

When he found her collapsed on the beach he almost had a heart attack. He hadn't known what to do. He thought about giving her CPR, and to his chagrin he enjoyed the prospect a bit too much… But she was thankfully still breathing.

He couldn't leave her on the beach. Carefully he scooped her up to bring her back to her ranch. He took a few steps but stopped short as Chelsea burrowed into his chest. Her fingers grasped his upper arm so hard her knuckles turned white. Denny gave her a confused look. What was he supposed to do with her if she didn't let go?

He'd heard somewhere that sick people weren't supposed to be moved much. Was that what Chelsea's reaction to being picked up was, an unconscious objection? Maybe. To him it seemed to be a cry for help. For comfort.

Aw hell. He was going to take her home. He was going to put her in his bed, at least until she woke up. And he was not going to think dirty thoughts about her being there. Nope.

Denny had lain down on the floor next to her, his arm stretched up to the bed. He let her squeeze his hand until he himself slipped into sleep.

That night had been the turning point of their relationship. She started to seek him out, just to talk to him. She enjoyed his company. They were very suddenly great friends. It was too bad he couldn't help but wish for more than that.

The night she brought Hisa over had been exhilarating fun, despite the circumstances. He had learned the healing recipe from his father, who told him that in some parts of the world it was used as a love potion. It was such a gross idea that he had laughed it off, but now he wondered. The goo-flinging had certainly made an impression on him. Could it have done the same for Chelsea?

Maybe the fish goo's effect was in the fact that he had ended up sleeping on top of her. He really hadn't meant to. Despite his hobo-like appearance, he was truly very gentlemanly. He knew Chelsea would want her space and had positioned himself so he wasn't touching her when he first climbed into bed.

Waking up with her in his arms had been the most blissful experience. She had been so warm and trusting, peaceful. She smelled of summer: of earth and rain, ripening fruit and blossoming flowers. Her hair was smooth and silky beneath his cheek. Denny had an insufferable urge to taste her skin. He didn't though. It wouldn't have been right.

Everything else between them felt perfectly right, however. She was playful and conversation flowed easily, as natural as the tides. She knew a surprising amount of oceanic mythology. She loved birds. Heck, birds loved her. Even Popper liked her, and Popper didn't like anyone. That had to be a sign.

The day Popper got lost, the day Denny kissed her, he had felt as though his entire life collapsed down to that moment. His heart had been so full of gratitude and relief that he had just twirled Chelsea around and pressed her lips to his.

Denny had never been one to hide his feelings, but that kiss made him realize something. He didn't just have a crush on Chelsea. He really, truly, deep down legitimately loved her. He had all along, crazy as it was.

So it was understandable that seeing her with Vaughn was a train wreck.

He wasn't sure how he was able to swallow his pride, and his jealousy, to work with Vaughn to rescue Chelsea. Vaughn drove the boat out and Denny had handled the net. It was his job to pull things out of the water, after all.

The first time Chelsea had collapsed Denny had thought it was terrible. Now he knew that it was tame, even laughable. Compared to seeing Chelsea's lifeless body going cold… nothing in the world could be scarier. And absolutely nothing was worse. Not even seeing her with Vaughn.

He breathed into her blue lips with passionate desperation. She couldn't die. She just couldn't.

He preformed some compressions on her chest. Her heart was still.

Vaughn had stopped the boat to look down at us. "Keep going!" he yelled shrilly. They had to get to shore. The waves were too choppy.

Denny shared a look with Vaughn, and it spoke volumes. In the long run, it didn't matter who she chose. It didn't matter if she decided on someone completely different. The girl they both loved was vanishing from this world. Vaughn fired the motor up again.

They pulled into shore and Vaughn helped Denny quickly pull Chelsea onto the sand. A few more compressions and she took a shuddering breath. She coughed, her eyes flying open.

Denny had never been happier in his life.

When the moment passed he felt his fear return, accompanied by anger. It was understandable. She had worried him sick.

But when she blamed herself, called herself a failure, Denny's anger dissipated. It hadn't been her fault at all that this had happened. He'd been too expectant, too demanding. She had been scared and confused.

He held out a hand to her. No matter what, he silently vowed to be there for her. He owed her that much.

Not to mention he couldn't stay away. Not even if he tried.

* * *

_So there you have it: The Reasons Why They Love Her, Part 2! A double update! Two chapters in the same day! I am unbelievably proud of myself. And modest too. X)_

_This chapter is, as promised, dedicated to Alexa's awesomeness. The next chapter will be dedicated to Lizz for her amazing volunteer gathering skills :)_


	18. Chapter 18

The breeze softly ruffled through Chelsea's hair.

She was quiet, gazing into her small water pond. A small crease formed between her eyebrows. Normally, on a day like today, she'd head down to the ocean. But Denny…

It was ridiculous, hiding like this. Denny and Vaughn both forgave her; that much was clear. But she couldn't shake of the embarrassment, or the shame. Chelsea had almost killed herself running away. She'd put the guys' lives in danger by forcing them out into the storm. She couldn't do anything right! Not even… fall in love…

Now it was painfully obvious to her. She loved Denny. She loved Vaughn. Every time she thought of them a thrill went through her body. Her lips tingled in remembrance. Chelsea wanted nothing more than to mold herself to them and never let go. To fit her hand into theirs and just feel their pulses reverberate together: fluid, even, harmonic. To let the air whoosh caressingly around her heart as it plummeted into the beautiful abyss.

She was startled from her thoughts when a faint rustle of fabric alerted her to a presence. Turning, she was confronted with Sabrina's calculating eyes, peering steadily at her through thick-lensed glasses.

"What?" Chelsea asked self-consciously. Sabrina's cheeks pinkened and she averted her gaze.

"N-nothing," Sabrina stammered, backing away shyly. Chelsea tugged on her earlobe.

"Oookayyy…" she muttered skeptically. Sabrina shook her head and half-walked, half-ran back down the road, raven hair flying behind her. What in the heck had she been doing? Chelsea could only stare after her in bewilderment, unconsciously straining to hear the girl's receding footsteps.

An omonious chill ran down Chelsea's spine. Whatever that had been about, nothing good was going to come of it. She knew that.

Still, it was devastating to see Sabrina kissing Vaughn.

Chelsea had been walking down to Mirabelle's shop to get more chicken feed. As Chelsea was approaching the shop, her anxiety at potentially seeing Vaughn grew into a hard lump in her stomach. Her body was heavy. Each step forward was a battle with her leaden legs. Her shoulders slumped as barbells into her collarbone. Her head weighed down her stiffened neck. She absolutely loathed having to go but poor little Hisa, and Dawn, needed food. She couldn't let them starve. Not because she was being stupid and avoiding Vaughn.

Chelsea had been glad to see Sabrina distracting Vaughn when she went into the shop. That meant, for the time being, she had escaped interaction. It was just when she walked out-

There were right there, Sabrina wrapped around Vaughn like a vise. The back of her head obscured Chelsea's view of Vaughn's face, but she could see his hat was knocked askew, revealing shocked silver strands. This was awful. This was freaking, teeth-chattering, eye-blurring awful. Chelsea felt her heart constrict and her lungs clam shut. She stumbled away blindingly, a silent scream rising like bile in her throat. No, no, no, no…!

She didn't know where she was going. She had the vague impression that she had done this before, and that it was somehow bad. But then again she couldn't imagine feeling more terrible than she was then and all she wanted was to get away. She had to move. She had to move and leave and flee all at once; the necessity hammered at her like a dull knife.

She stumbled away, tears thick in her throat and slick on her cheeks. She wandered, gasping and emptily grasping until she came up against a familiar, muscular chest. She deflated, came to a wavering halt and then finally let herself fold into it, taking comfort in its warmth and solidity, as she cried.

"Shh, it's alright," Denny soothed, petting Chelsea's hair. She whimpered a short, pitiful protest. He dropped his hand, then wrapped both his arms around her to bring her close.

They were sitting solemnly on Denny's bed, Chelsea's legs sprawling the length of it as she leaned into him. Her face was pressed into Denny's chest. The front of his shirt was now soaked with tears, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Shh," he repeated, rocking her gently. Chelsea emitted a high, pained sound. Denny hugged her closer.

Chelsea took slow, deliberate deep breaths to try to counteract her gasping sobs. "I-I'm s-sorry-y-Y I didnuh- I didn't mean tooo-," Chelsea blubbered, cut off as her tears overwhelmed her again.

Denny shifted and gently caught Chelsea's face in his hands. He drank in the sight of her, then tenderly brought his lips to the corners of her eyes. He followed the contours down the smooth surface of her cheeks and fluttered kisses along her jaw line. Chelsea closed her eyes and his lips brushed over her eyelids. He kissed the bridge of her nose, traced her forehead, and lingered in that soft place beneath the ear where it joins the face. It was intimate and beautiful and utterly perfect. Chelsea's tears faded away and she parted her lips to meet Denny's, entering into a brief, blissful eternity comprised only of the two of them and the heat rolling within.

It was Chelsea who finally ended the kiss, blushing as she remembered where they were. She scooted away shyly, tangling her leg in the sheet and therefore only managing to move an inch before toppling over. Denny laughed in a low, luminous rumble, his eyes deep and intensely soft.

"Hey, Chelsea?" Denny asked tenderly, "Why were you crying like that?"

* * *

_Oh my gosh it's so good to be back. You would not believe._

_So I've gone back to school, like everyone else I'm sure, which is in itself incredibly stressful. I have already managed to forget homework and have repeatedly gone to the wrong classes. On top of that, I'm trying to put together a giant Breast Cancer Awareness event that requires a lot of organizational finesse that I don't have. Not to mention the people skills that I lack. I can write well enough, but I really can't speak. People scare me. I get all freaked out just typing this, thinking about having to deal with people. _

_Anyway writing helps me destressify- (which isn't a word, but should be). I feel SO much better now that I've been able to just splatter ideas onto paper. Though its a bit more of an involved process than what I just made it sound like X)_

_And salapa, I feel I must acknowledge your awesomeness. Your review had me fangirling for at least ten minutes. I was just like OH MY GOD SOMEONE LIKETH MY SHTURF and it give me that boost I needed to actually sit down and write. Never underestimate the power of reviewing, readers! It motivates people. *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*_


	19. Chapter 19

Chelsea's eyes widened in stupefied horror. Why was she crying? She had forgotten, but now the image of Vaughn and Sabrina rushed back to her, crushing the air out of her lungs. Her throat constricted against it; she couldn't tell this to Denny- that the reason she was upset was that Vaughn had broken her heart. It would break _Denny's _heart. Chelsea shook her head, closing herself off.

"Chels?" Denny prodded, gently placing a hand on her arm. Chelsea's eyes inadvertently flitted open for a split second, meeting his anxious gaze.

What could she do? She couldn't just ignore him. Chelsea traced little circles into the sheet, not meeting Denny's eyes. He deserved to know. He did. "Vaughn," she finally choked out, in a hoarse whisper.

Denny's body tensed, and she could imagine his eyes hardening. His hand around her wrist tightened possessively. "What did that bastard do to you?" Denny demanded, his voice grating like sharp stone. She could feel the intensity of Denny's glare through the side of her face. Chelsea winced, digging deeper circles into the sheet.

"He… Sabrina…" she managed in a strangled tone. She bit her lip, trying to force down the prickling sensation returning to the corners of her eyes. The skin split open, and hot droplets rolled down her chin.

Denny was on his feet now, stalking angrily across the floor. "I'll kill him," he seethed. His fists were clenched so tightly Chelsea could see the white bones of his knuckles starkly outlined.

Chelsea's heart gave a choked cry. "NO!" she screeched, a little too quickly. Collecting herself, she repeated, "No." Denny looked at her in perplexity, his jaw still set. But he dropped his fists, shaking his hands out.

"Fine," he allowed. Pain was wet in his eyes, yet he said nothing more, simply sat himself back down on the bed. Chelsea's heart wrenched.

"Denny," she whispered, reaching out to him. He stared at the floor. "Denny," she tried again, a little louder. He whipped his head up, gaze fierce and blazing. "I'm sorry," Chelsea told him. The right side of his mouth twisted up slightly, and he looked away.

"You love him," he stated blandly. Chelsea laughed softly, a lump rising in her throat.

"Yes," she said quietly, "But I love you, too." She worked her hand under his and grasped it, giving him a pleading stare. "I do. I love you."

Denny let out a small sob, and wrapped her in a crushing hug. Chelsea was left breathless by a powerful wave of emotion, an overflowing warmth, a sense of coming home. "I love you too," Denny whispered into her hair. She sighed jubilantly, encircling her arms around his back. She wasn't going to let go, ever.

They were startled by a knock on the door. They both scrambled off the bed. Chelsea plunked herself down into a chair, and Denny ran to let the person in.

Of all the people, in all the world, neither Denny nor Chelsea anticipated that particular raven-haired rich girl would be the one to walk through the door.

"Chelsea," Sabrina breathed out in a whoosh, rushing to her side. Chelsea shifted uncomfortably in her chair, leaning away as much as she could without falling off.

"What do _you_ want?" she responded icily. She brought a finger to her lips, surprised to find such hostility in her own tone. Smirking wryly, she looked away.

"I'm sorry, Chelsea," Sabrina continued, sounding a bit smaller, "I know you saw me kiss Vaughn. God I'm embarrassed… It was so stupid, and selfish, I know! It's just… ever since that day, when he found my mother's pendant… It was before you moved here. He fixed the chain, without asking for any money, or anything. …Anyway, ever since then… well, it's stupid, but… I… I've loved him."

Chelsea's coldness cracked a little. "So?" she sputtered indignantly.

Sabrina's face fell. "Well, I just wanted you to know…" She took a deep, shuddering breath. "He rejected me. He loves_ you_, Chelsea," she relayed sadly. She turned around, hands clasped behind her back. "…You're really lucky, you know. That you have someone that cares that deeply for you…" Sabrina sighed wistfully. Denny shifted uncomfortably in the doorway.

Sabrina laughed at that, an empty, hollow sound. "Yes, you're lucky alright," she insisted, lips trembling, "I guess I'll see you around." With that she ducked out the door. A gloomy shadow was left hanging in her place.

Denny and Chelsea looked at each other awkwardly. The truth of Vaughn and Sabrina's kiss had altered everything. Denny's jaw worked, and he stared down at his hands.

"I guess this means… that none of it matters now…" he acknowledged dully. Chelsea clutched her chest, cursing every painful beat. Why couldn't this be easy? Why couldn't she just love one?

"No!" he cried suddenly, striding away from the wall. "I won't give you up," Denny declared, cupping Chelsea's face in his hands. Half of her melted in relief, but the other half, the part that belonged to Vaughn, rebelled against his touch.

"I…" Chelsea hesitated. Denny ran a hand through her hair. Unconsciously she leaned into it, but recoiled as she realized what she was doing. "Denny, I can't," she said, biting into her fractured lip. He closed his eyes against the statement, and pressed his forehead against hers.

"I'll wait," he told her. He stepped away, and Chelsea stumbled to her feet.

"I love you," she whispered feebly. Limbs heavy, she pushed herself out the door.

* * *

_Gah poor Denny he tries so hard *sniff*._

_Yeah you all knew that Vaughn wouldn't cheat on her like that. It's not only OOC in game, but in my story as well. I mean, I didn't write that chap from his POV for nothing!_

_In terms of story status, the last chapter brought me over 2,000 views! *so happy* I'm gonna cry! *sniff* Ah crap X) And I have 2 new favorites and two new followers! I am touched, really. I feel like my writing is actually relevant to people! That's like, the best freaking feeling ever!_

_In other news, my bestie SimpleChica has now joined Fanfiction! Her story, To Catch A Thief, has been on deviantART for a while now and it awesome. As it's name suggests, its a Jill x Skye fic and its truly great- I'm not just saying that cause she's my friend. I'll post a link in my next AN, because by then she'll have it up. (She better have it up by then! Or else... X) muhaha)_

_Finally, I thought I should mention that I've come to realize that Chelsea in my story is quite the damsel in distress. This bothers me. I believe in strong heroines who aren't reliant on a guy to make them complete. So I'm going to try to work on that._


	20. Chapter 20

Chelsea's head was spinning. Why would anyone be so devoted to her? She didn't understand why both Denny and Vaughn were so infatuated with her. It was too damn confusing! She almost wanted to break away from it completely- just live her life forever single and thus never choose. But that would be stupid. Eventually they'd move on and she'd be left alone and sad. There had to be something... maybe she should make a list?

Chelsea laughed lowly at the absurdity of that thought. There is nothing logical about feelings, so making lists of pros and cons in the end would have no effect on her decision.

Dazedly she wandered down the path back to her farmhouse. Her distraction caused her to trip violently over a rock. She landed hard on her hipbone, and immediately felt the bloom of a bruise. Chelsea froze, her breath hitching slightly. The painful memory was coming on fast and she couldn't stem the flood-

_Chelsea's mother stood with a broken bottle clutched in her hand. "Your father did this to me," the woman slurred, staggering on her feet. "It's his fault I have YOU," she continued, the bottle rolling from her hand into a clattering of glass shards on the floor. Chelsea's side was weeping, but she couldn't move. She was too scared to move. If she moved, G-d help her, her mother would never let her go._

"_Love is stupid, Chelsea. Love your husband, love your daughter, *hic*. I did and look where it got me. G-ddamn money problems. You know you're the reason that we don't have electric this month?"_

_Chelsea whimpered in pain. Her vision was going blurry. She needed to go to the hospital, to close the wound, to put pressure on it. But she couldn't move-_

Chelsea emerged from her memory with a gasp. Sweat was pouring icily down her back. She was shivering. That night, she'd come so close to dying… Chelsea traced the long scar down her side with a shaking finger. That was why she came to the island right? To start fresh. To leave behind all the horrifying experience and find somewhere where she'd feel safe and happy.

Chelsea rubbed her new bruise and sat up. She'd been so concerned lately with her love issues that she had been blinded to the true gift it was to be on this island, with its friendly people and its opportunity for love. She wasn't about to give up on herself now. She was going to build her farm and establish herself as the independent woman she knew she could be, whatever her mother may say. Eventually she was going to start a family, a real family: a family that loved her and that she in turn would adore and cherish as it deserved to be. She would adopt this town and never allow the violence and regrets to infiltrate her new life.

With renewed fervor Chelsea set out for her farmhouse. Her perspective had shifted. She felt freer, lighter, more determined. She felt unfettered, strong, and indomitable. She felt- What the heck was Popper doing up there?

* * *

_Meh this chapter is so short mehhhhh. But it's the 20th one! Whoot! Milestone, achieved._

_The reason I've seemingly fallen off the face of the earth: Gold Award, NHS applications, school restarting, Gold Award, that darn Gold Award, and did I mention the Gold Award? Don't get me wrong, I don't for a second regret my contribution to breast cancer awareness or the rest of it. It's just that it was an insane amount of work and I generally don't do well with work. I have so much leftover stress right now I think I might implode._

_I'm so happy I finally have time to come back to this! In this chapter I hoped to introduce Chelsea as a more independent, capable character. Maybe it worked and maybe it didn't, not sure I guess that's what you guys are here for, to tell me. And that interruption about Popper in the end, well, the only explanation I can give you is that I am incapable of remaining serious beyond a certain point. Be prepared for an onslaught of stupid humor :)_

_2,340 views! And I have 24 reviews! When I saw I swear I was rolling around spazzing. That isn't an expression or exaggeration I was literally rolling around flailing. It was awesome. And CCN, don't apologize for your epically long review. It made me feel special ;)_


	21. Chapter 21

Chelsea rubbed her eyes, but sure enough the little black parrot was still lazily sunbathing on her roof. She picked up her pace. This was getting weird…

She looked around to see if she could find Denny, but he wasn't in sight. Her gaze shifted to the roof again. Popper was still there. She felt she should probably get him down.

"Hey Popper! Get down here!" she called up to him. He blinked in startled surprise. "Popper! Come here!" she repeated. Looking offended, the bird turned his beak up, ruffled his feathers, and settled back. "Hey!" Chelsea exclaimed, feeling snubbed. With a huff, she scrutinized the side of the house. It was no good. If Popper didn't come on his own will, there was little chance she'd be able to climb to retrieve him. There were no handholds.

"Hey Popper! I'm going to get Denny!" she yelled up to the bird. He peeked at her through one eye but otherwise ignored her. "Stupid featherbrain," Chelsea muttered under her breath. With that she lurched down the road, clutching her injured side.

Along the way she met Lanna, who immediately rushed to help her. "Ohmigod are you hurt? Do you need a doctor? I know CPR!" she babbled in concern. Chelsea couldn't help but smile.

"No Lanna I'm fine, just took a rough fall. Actually, I'm looking for Denny-"

"So you do need CPR!" Lanna gasped, "I knew it!"

"No!" Chelsea sputtered, retreating from Lanna's inspection, "His bird's on my roof."

Lanna backed off with renewed interest. "Again?" she asked incredulously.

Chelsea chuckled, "Well, _technically_ no. Last time he was in the henhouse."

Lanna tilted her head knowingly. "Think he's telling the bird to do that so he can spend more time with you?" she insinuated.

Chelsea's eyes widened. "Of course not! And if he did, I doubt Popper would listen anyway," she denied, shaking her head, "Denny's probably worried sick. Do you know where he is?"

Lanna smiled dreamily. "Probably being all hunky pulling fish out of the water," she replied. Chelsea's eyes narrowed. Playfully, Lanna gave her a nudge. "Oh come on now, I know he's yours. I can still look, though, can't I?" she teased.

Chelsea blew out a controlled sigh. Did Denny really belong to her? Probably not. She had no right to be angry… "I better go find him," Chelsea asserted. She gave Lanna a playful nudge back, joking, "I better go _look_ for him." Lanna giggled and waved her off.

"Careful with that injury of yours!" she called merrily, "I wanna hear all about your _CPR _later."

Chelsea winced and smiled at the same time.

Finally, she ran into Denny on his way to Chen's shop. Just as predicted, he seemed very concerned. "Denny!" Chelsea cried, rushing up to him.

"You know where he is?" Denny immediately answered anxiously. Chelsea nodded wryly, and Denny blew out a sigh. "Thank the Harvest Goddess!" he breathed, "I thought he might still be in the store and got stuck when the door closed, but where is he?"

Chelsea paused, feeling suddenly very awkward. "On my roof," she informed him. Denny slapped his forehead.

"Should have known he'd be on your farm. I'm starting to think he likes you better," Denny groaned.

"Nah. But he won't get down," Chelsea pointed out, "We'll need a ladder."

At that moment, Vaughn interjected, "I think I could help with that."

The cowboy cut out a dark figure against the cheery green island backdrop. Denny bristled, and Chelsea stepped back uncomfortably. "I have my own ladder, thanks," Denny dismissed, fixing Vaughn with an angry glare.

"Mine's closer; it's just out back," Vaughn retorted smoothly, motioning toward Mirabelle's shop behind them. He looked at Chelsea, his eyes soft and somewhat pleading. She relaxed.

"We'd appreciate it, thanks," she accepted. Vaughn nodded and gruffly turned away. Denny was glared at his receding back as if he wanted to kill him.

"Denny, calm down," Chelsea demanded in a hushed tone, "He's helping out."

"You were crying. It was unforgivable," Denny insisted lowly.

"It wasn't his fault," Chelsea whispered back.

They quieted as Vaughn rounded the shop with the ladder. "Got it," he huffed under its weight, nodding acknowledgement to Chelsea. She smiled and let him lead the way. Denny snickered, but followed them towards Chelsea's ranch.

Vaughn grunted as he let the ladder fall against the side of the house. He made a move to climb it, but Denny grabbed his arm. "It's my bird," he almost growled.

"It's my ladder," Vaughn argued, brushing off the hand.

"You've done enough," Denny contended angrily. Vaughn caught his gaze and held it. Neither was about to back down.

"I have more experience with animals," Vaughn asserted, grabbing a rung on the ladder.

"Popper's my bird! I can deal with him, better than you can," Denny shot back, shouldering Vaughn over so he could grab the ladder as well.

"Why does he keep getting lost then?" Vaughn disputed coolly, reaching for the next rung. His eyes were liquid fire.

"Wha-?! Like an animal never wanders off on you!" Denny objected hotly, joining Vaughn on the higher rung.

"Oh for crying out loud!" she exclaimed, pushing her way between the two men, "I'll climb the ladder myself."

Denny and Vaughn blubbered their objections, but Chelsea ignored them and ascended to the roof. Up there Popper was curled up with his head down. He seemed rather sheepish.

Chelsea snorted. "What'd you expect? A welcoming party?" she asked the bird scathingly. He hung his head even lower and averted his eyes. Chelsea felt a pang of guilt. "Aw don't be like that…" Suddenly her foot slipped and she landed hard on her injured side. The protruding shingles dug into her skin, and she gasped for breath.

Down below, Vaughn and Denny scrambled to reach her. Chelsea moaned and sat up, waving them off. "I'm… okay," she wheezed. They didn't listen. Within seconds they were both standing over her, appearing very concerned.

"Let me look at it," Vaughn offered, stooping down to her side. He reached for her shirt but Chelsea grasped its hem firmly, her heart fluttering in her chest. She never let anyone see the scar…

"Chelsea, you know I won't hurt you," Vaughn continued softly. Denny snorted, crouching down next to him.

"It's okay Chels, you don't have to show him if you don't want to," he reassured her, glaring at Vaughn.

Vaughn shook his head. "I just want to make sure you're okay," he persisted, placing a hand over the one Chelsea had clutched to her side. She bit her lip and examined the shingles beneath her. Vaughn lifted her chin with a gentle finger. "Trust me," he whispered.

Chelsea gave a shuddering breath, but lifted the fabric to expose her side.

The men gave a collective gasp. Chelsea's eyes began to tear up, and she quickly yanked the shirt back down. Denny pulled her into a tight hug.

Vaughn tipped his hat over his eyes. "I didn't know…" he murmured. Chelsea hiccupped. Denny rubbed her back.

"It's okay, Vaughn," Chelsea accepted, reaching out an arm to him. He took her hand, hesitantly. Denny was perturbed, but he let it be for the moment.

From the roof Vaughn surveyed the farmland. Catching sight of the fireplace in her backyard, he gasped, "You aren't still using that, are you?"

Chelsea looked up to see what he was talking about. "Well, yes. There's nothing else I _can_ do," she replied heavily.

"I'll cook for you then," Vaughn asserted.

Denny did a double take. "Wait. You're saying you don't have a kitchen?" he asked. Chelsea looked down. Denny pulled them both to their feet. "Why didn't you tell me, Chels? I'll cook for you," he offered belligerently.

Chelsea put her hands up. "Neither of you has to cook for me, guys. I'm perfectly fine with the fireplace out back-"

"No, it wouldn't be right," Vaughn maintained.

"When would you ever have time? I'll do it," Denny contested.

"I offered first," Vaughn pointed out.

"Oh? Are we in kindergarten now?" Denny shot back.

"I'm fine guys, really," Chelsea cut in. They ignored her.

"What kind of argument is that?" Vaughn scoffed.

"I'm the better cook anyways," Denny retorted.

"Oh really? Says who?" Vaughn bickered.

"Enough already! You can both cook for me!" Chelsea interrupted. They both blinked at her, wide-eyed. "Geez," she complained, heading for the ladder, "How about Denny makes breakfast and Vaughn makes dinner?"

* * *

_Hey guys I'm back! At least, I hope so '^,^ my life is busy... __Please don't give up on me... I'm still trying..._

_So the story behind the story: I've had people suggest a contest, thus, this was born! It shall be a food fight! Lol. Unfortunately neither actually knows how to cook... why'd Vaughn even offer in the first place XP he's such a sillyface._


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